Percabeth Residential High School
by buriedblackrose
Summary: Percy and Annabeth go on a school residential trip first, then some high school and day-to-day life. basically just Percabeth fluff, but some unimportant drama (Not relationship drama, or anything actually of consequence, don't worry). Disclaimer: I do not own PJO
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, because I am thirteen year old girl and not a middle aged man (Hahaha, or am I?). Anyway, it would be nice if you left some nice, constructive comments because this is my first proper fanfic, but you don't have too. Thx, Valen.**

The bus was loaded. The kids where whooping. The parents were crying. Annabeth Chase sighed as she mounted the steps of the coach: just another boring residential trip was coming, and out of all the places the school could have chosen? Well, she wasn't exactly sure. All she knew was that they were going to a nature resort in the middle of nowhere, to learn about the environment, and to suffer through nature activities, deemed 'Fun and Exciting,' by Mr Montford, the school principal.

From years of practice, she drew up her mental shields and prepared herself as she walked down the aisle. Whispers started.

'Arsonist'

'Freak'  
'Mad as a Hatter,'  
Annabeth was burdened with these insults, and had been so for many years now. Being a demigod, had often led her to unfortunate dilemmas at school, and so suspicions of things such as arson has come about. She was no arsonist (that rumour had started when a Hydra had broken in), not mad (Okay, sure. To anyone seeing her converse with that empousa, she must have looked so), and - or so she hoped - not a freak. Though she guessed being half blood meant being an outcast, being rejected and treated as though she was indeed a freak.

Annabeth made herself comfortable in the back against the window and stared out of the glass panel, at the parents milling around the bottom of the bus. Of course, there was no one there for her. The only reason she was on this trip was because Chiron had paid it for her, claiming she needed a break. She longingly thought of camp, and Percy... Oh, gods of Olympus she missed Percy. It was only November, but she had not seen Percy since he went to his own boarding school after the war with Gaea. If only she could see him now.

Annabeth fought sleep madly.

'Come on Annabeth!' She muttered to herself 'you survived Tartarus, you can stay awake a few more hours.'  
Annabeth would not allow herself to sleep because since last summer, she would wake up screaming, racked from terrible nightmares, shouting for Percy. Most people at school knew about her nightmares, and used it as another reason to torment her.  
"Who'se Percy eh?" They would shriek at her in the corridors "Your boyfriend? Aw, bless."  
Or "Mumma been letting you watch those scawy films again?"  
If only they knew the half of it. Sometimes she wondered why she had even bothered saving the world at all.

Finally, after many hours of sitting in that cramped bus unable to move (which for Annabeth, who was AHDH, was particularly painful), they pulled up outside an old house. In the fashion of hooligans, the class disembarked noisily, jostling at each other. The teachers fruitlessly attempted to maintain order as they heaved the endless sea of bags and handed them to their respective owners. Once they had all rejoined, one teacher, an old hag who looked like a fury, Mrs Martin, reached into her faded pastel pink pocket, and took out a piece of paper.

"This is the plan for your room and roommates," she droned, in her monotonous voice "Swapping is prohibited: as is thievery, practical jokes, fights and laughter."

The students erupted into a synchronised groan, as Mrs Martin (or Martini, as the youths had long since taken to calling her), proclaimed her torture plan.  
And oh Hades, she had it in for Annabeth. Since Annabeth - or rather she suspected Annabeth had - torched her math room (which, okay she had, but that was the fault of the Hydra) , she had had a grudge for her, forever handing the daughter of Athena a detention for whatever meagre wrong doing or bad spelling she had made. And gods, she felt no mercy today.

Annabeth ended up in a room of four with Courtney, Shan and Elise, the bitchiest girls in the school. They complained loudly when they learnt of their fourth roommate, and bad mouthed her blatantly. Annabeth didn't care, hand before her, she performed an obscene gesture at their retreating backs, that, if she had been at camp and seen by Chiron, would have had her scrubbing pots after every meal for the next six months. And Annabeth should know after a certain incident with the Stolls.

Sighing deeply, she hitched her rucksack onto her left shoulder, and dragged her feet after her class. Every time Annabeth felt like punching one of these kids, which was countless times a day, she had to remind herself that these were only normal teenagers, and normal teenagers would be like that.

The thing was that Annabeth was not normal.  
Hey, she could fight her battles just fine, but she had made her mind up to not waste her time on these mortals.

The room they were staying in was simple. Ivory walls, and rough blue carpet. Four twin beds lay parallel to each other, headboards against the left wall, each with a closet on their right. The other three girls had already unpacked, and where in the process of squealing over a magazine which, as far as Annabeth could see, was just a few gods damned pages depicting pictures of shirtless, ripped men. Snorting, she thought of Percy, and how he could outshine any of those men, of whom she caught sight of upon sulkily looking across at the girls.

Thankful for their lack of attention on her, Annabeth took the opportunity to dress out of her rather smelly, sweaty clothes. She ducked into the bathroom and locked herself in with her clothes. With all the scars she had gained over the years; all the scars decorating her tanned muscular back, arms, legs, torso; with all those scars that she bore, she did not dare change in front of others. She had chosen her camp half blood top, necklace, owl earings and jeans. Of course, she realised that such clothes she had picked was meant for camp, and not a school residential, but who cared? They smelt like home.

One hour later, the students of Norrison Academy, Annabeth's school, traipsed down in an unorganised crowd to the mess hall, where they would greet the other schools in their party, and be led through a detailed plan of the coming week. One by one, the schools filed into the rows of seats. Once they were all assembled, and old man bustled onto a make shift dais, and tapped the microphone to check it was functioning. It wasn't, and the man frowned, before issuing a command to the faculty flanking him. She took this opportune moment to peer around the room.

New York Finishing School: Okay

52nd School: Okay  
Classmore high: Okay  
Goode: Okay  
Har-  
Hold up.  
Goode!?  
With her heart hammering against my chest, She scanned the crowd, looking for her Seaweed Brain. At first Annabeth didn't see him, and disappointment so hard lurched inside her, she felt bile rise in her throat.  
But then she saw him.  
Saw untameable black hair, sea green eyes, a muscular tall body. Percy! She felt giddy and elated.  
With a start, she realised that Percy's previously roving eyes had landed on her, and an expression of surprise, them wild happiness crossed his beautiful face.  
"Wise girl?" He mouthed, shocked.  
She nodded with a huge grin.  
Percy inclined his head to the side, and Annabeth realised he was signalling towards the door near him. Annabeth winked, nodded, and with a smile on her face, slipped out of her seat and made her way to the door Percy had shown her.  
Being who she was, invisible save for when she was being insulted, which was admittedly quite regularly, nobody stopped her as she woven herself between the rows, with her head kept low.

Percy cornered her and pushed her against the wall.

"He-" she said, but was cut off my his lips meeting her mouth. Annabeth smiled against his lips, and leaned in deeper. By some miracle of the gods, he was here. And for the first time since Tartarus, she allowed happiness so strong she was drowning, to take her. They deepened the kiss, until it became a flame of passion. Percy held her tight, he moved his hands up her back, and she tilted her head up to his face until the flame was white hot, they were moving so gracefully they may be dancing and then -  
"Ahem."  
The couple jumped apart blushing furiously. Patiently filed outside the door, two straight lines, Norrison school waiting to leave, and Goode beside them.  
Damned coincidence.  
Damned timing.  
The crowd of students wolf whistled, the teachers staring, somewhat shocked and possibly surprised at Annabeth, the quiet, nerdy girl having a boyfriend.  
"Annabeth Chase, get to your line, Percy Jackson, to your's" Mr Montford said with a scowl.  
"And I take it you missed the assembly to' - he paused, contemplating how to phrase his words - Make out with your boyfriend?"  
"Um..."

Staring at the floor, but smiling despite herself, Annabeth felt the blush creep up her face. She stalked down the walk of shame to the back of the line at Goode, her head high. Beside her, Percy to his class, clearly containing his laughter. Taunts came from the line, peals of laughter resounding on the walls, with a deep, long sigh, Annabeth stood at the back glumly. Martini hissed at her as she passed to the front of the queue, muttering something about disrespectful teenagers.

It dawned on Annabeth only as she stood before the mirror brushing her teeth later that night.

It dwelled in Annabeth's mind only as she lay in bed, withstanding the jeers of her roommates.  
And only in the morning, as she desperately attempted to shield her scars from the other girls whilst she changed, that she really worried on it.  
How has Mr Montford know Percy's name?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, or so I think.**

It was nine in the morning, and the several schools in attendance had convened in the foyer to learn the groups they would be with, and activities they would be doing over the coming week. Every morning, they should adhere to their designated group station, from where they would head off for the day. And, As it turned out, the activities weren't half as bad as Annabeth had suspected, but were rather things she and Percy did at camp frequently, like rock climbing and canoeing. Although she was fairly certain that such activities here, would not have lava or sea monsters. She hoped so anyway.

Annabeth tilted her head towards were Percy stood, carefree and calm with his hands in his pocket and earphones in. He caught her looking, and shone her his famous crooked smile. Okay, her insides melted just a tiny bit, they always did. He looked cute like that, she thought, and the way that his smile lit up his beautiful green eyes, she could stare at them all day, drowning, drowning, _drowning._

 _"_ Miss Chase?"

She started, looking around. "Sorry, wh - what Sir?" Snickers coursed their way through the crowd.

The teacher at the front, sighed somewhat dramatically, "I said, _Miss Chase,_ if you could stop ogling your boyfriend for a moment, and come and join your assigned group if you please?"

"Oh," She said, shouldering the standard issued backpacks the resort provided, and mooching over to where the teacher was pointing, her cheeks coloured red. Annabeth sighed and leaned against the wall, watching as the teacher rattle off the last of the names from Norrison, and moved on to Goode. She closed her eyes and sank into a delicious, tantalising daydream about having Percy drown all the annoying teachers here. Oh yes, and most of the students as well. She had been basking in these pleasant thoughts, when, to her chagrin, her eyes snapped open suddenly, and she was pulled out of her reverie. One of the girls in her group, a girl in Goode of whom she did not know her name, but had wolf whistled at a certain unfortunate event the previous night, was standing over her.

"Yeahwhadyouwan'?" Annabeth mumbled, annoyance colouring her voice.

The girl laughed. Not a friendly, warm one, but a cold, merciless one. Annabeth knew that laugh from monsters and bullies alike, it meant trouble, it stank of insults, of fists and kicks and weapons flashing in the air, and so the demigod instinctively balled up her fists and in a gesture so discreet, it may have been casual, slipped into a fighting stance. Her oppressor blinked in surprise, as though she had not expected such retaliation. She backed off quickly towards her friends, shooting Annabeth a wary look.

Annabeth smiled to herself, and then realised that by zoning out, she had missed what group Percy would be in. She frantically scanned the crowd, and then saw him coming towards her. She raised an eyebrow inquisitively, a silent question. Percy grinned and made a thumbs up gesture to her. Annabeth beamed as he came over, and, childish it may have been, poked her tongue out at him. With a smile, he returned the gesture, and the pair high fived and tangled themselves in an embrace.

Their instructor came over, just as Percy and Annabeth let go of each other. Having not seen the scene they had set last night, he just raised a suggestive eyebrow, but said nothing. Which was thankful. It was the first morning, and Annabeth had already been embarrassed plenty, thank you very much.

"Okay, Group four!" The instructor bellowed, his voice deep and gruff, but friendly, and a lilting accent. Irish?. "Oy, group four, I am your instructor Mr James, but you can call me Dan," He yelled, the grey bushy moustache on his upper lip moving with the air currents, "For tomorrow and the rest of the week, we shall meet in the canteen. We have a nice five k run now so if you'd like to get moving, follow me." Groans and reluctant sighs broke out amongst the party. "Kidding!" Yelled Dan, "But seriously, follow me, we have swimming first thing. I trust you have your togs in your bags?"

Sighs of relief resounded around the rooms, mixed with a few declinations as to Dan's question. The students followed their instructor, yawning and rubbing their eyes, save those who hadn't their bathing suits, who ran back to their rooms to fetch said items. Annabeth fell into stride besides Percy, and jostled his elbow. "Gonna shine eh, Seaweed Brian?" she asked jokingly. Percy laughed, and slid an around her shoulders.

"You bet, Wise Girl."

"Hey, um Percy, I was wondering about something," She proceeded to explain her confusion as to how Mr Montford had know his name, and finished with her projection: "Perhaps he's a monster."

Percy deliberated, scratching his head thoughtfully, before saying "Well, perhaps he simply knows it it because of all the schools I got kicked out of, or maybe one of my teachers was telling him about the hopeless case I am. Don't get yourself worked up over it Wise Girl, whilst I would hate to think that your principal is a monster, even if he was, he could not be very strong."

"I guess you're right."

"Honestly, I have seen and heard many strange things, but what you just said: Oh, that's taking it to the next level."

Annabeth giggled rather shamefully, and playfully punched Percy in the arm before sprinting up to join the rest of the group, who was making their way through the rotting gate into the swimming pool area, Percy hot on her heels. 

As Annabeth lowered herself into the pool, the cold water lapping at her bare legs, and bare stomach, she thought of how funny the looks on her peer's faces once her boyfriend, who was incidentally part fish, began to swim. Percy was besides her, head resting against the border of the pool, a smug expression dancing on his face.

"Looking forwards to kicking their butts," Percy privately murmured to her, flexing his arms before him.

"I have no doubt you will," She replied, "Nice trunks by the way."

Looking down at his swimming costume, Percy attempted to spin elegantly in the water, showing off the blue cloth, which happened to be decorated with pictures of cartoon whales, holding up signs that, as far as Annabeth's dyslexic brain could decipher, read something along the lines of:

 _Poseidon's Junior Sea Scouts_

"Very Fashionable Seaweed Brain, Very Fashionable," Annabeth told him, admiring her own two piece grey costume, which, with the help of Piper, she had embroidered on little owls. The daughter of Aphrodite had advised her to put owls where she saw them often, so as to eventually stop wanting to punch everyone she met. In hindsight: Worst piece of advice, and most ridiculous thing she had ever told her friend. Still, it made Annabeth laugh to think upon the earnest in which Piper had told her this.

As she had expected, Percy outshone the rest of the class. Zipping up and down the pool like a shark, oblivious to his audience, who watched him in awe. Even Dan was astounded, and fist bumped Percy as he ducked into the changing room. Annabeth leant against the door of the female changing room, and slipped inside, knowing that what awaited her was not a welcome. As usual, she was correct. Annabeth had attempted to slip into the remaining stall, but was promptly intercepted by Gretel, who smiled with a baleful glint in her eye, and shook her head.

"Nuh uh, honey," She said sweetly, with a voice unnervingly like Drew "But why don't you go over to the guys' changing room, and change with-"

Gretel never managed to finish what she was about to say, because she was doubled over, clutching at her face. Annabeth stood over her, staring at her own fist uncomprehendingly, and then, wide-eyed at the bruise which had already begun to blossom on the other girl's face. Then, growling, she punched again, again, again, in Gretel's stomach, face. She wasn't registering what she was doing, only that, suddenly, so suddenly, she felt blind fury. White hot anger boiling inside her, until all she knew was that the chain had snapped. Vaguely, she knew she shouldn't have, it was wrong and yes, perhaps uncalled for, but Annabeth was sick. Sick of the torment, sick of the bullies, sick of the jeering of which she had withstood for so long.

Annabeth was suddenly grabbed from behind by two pairs of hands. She grunted, trying to force herself of out of their grip, but it was like steel clamps.

"Annabeth," Someone whispered in her ear. She continued flailing and shouting.

" _Annabeth_ ," it whispered again.  
This time, she was finally shaken from whatever raging, reckless, state she had been in. She stopped suddenly and gasped, suddenly mute. She had cracked. Annabeth had never unleashed her anger on a mortal before, and oh _gods_ , what had she done?

She turned to face her imprisoners, of whom had relaxed her grip on her. Percy and Dan faced her, the former with concern on his face, but the latter had his hairy, rather wrinkled face contorted in fierce anger. She knew that face, had learnt it over the years from countless different people, but she had not seen it in a long time. And it always meant trouble. Watching them was the entire group, boys included, who had run in at the mention of a fight, leaving the girls who were not decent, to frantically shove each other into stalls with their friends. The remaining females stood with the guys however, watching in shock, with eyes as wide as the moon **. (A/N; LOOK, I'M VEEY SORRY FOR THE P!ATD REFERANCE HAHA**. ).

Dan glowered at her:  
"Come with me," He said , "And also you Mr Jackson."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: PJO is not mine**

"Miss Chase, just because your juvenile delinquent of a boyfriend is here with you, that does not mean you should parade around acting as you please as well," Mr Montford was in the process of telling her "I'm afraid to tell you that what you did was unacceptable, and that your parents had to be contacted," he droned on, "You've already been recorded as exhibiting violent behaviour once before and so therefore, one more incident and I hate to inform you, shall result in expulsion from Norrison."

Annabeth did not see this as a threat, she had heard it all before, and what did she care if she was expelled from Norrison? What did she care if her parents were contacted? The only thing that irked her was Mr Montford's chosen description of Percy: Juvenile delinquent. Percy, besides her, subtly wove his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand beneath the desk, a small movement, but enough to send a message.

 _Hey, don't retaliate, you're already neck deep in trouble._

Following Annabeth's outburst, they had found themselves hauled off by Dan and thrown into an office labelled:

 _Resort Director: Mr Baker_

And so, presently they sat before said Resort Director and Mr Montford, exchanging glares, the teachers versus the students. Already, the standard speech about 'Violence will not be tolerated here,' had been delivered, as had they been told that Gretel, other than a few bruises, was okay, and that the damage was not so bad. Which, as far as Annabeth was concerned, was nothing short of a huge disappointment.

Mr Baker turned towards Percy and said, "As for you Jackson, Mrs Dante, your principal I believe, will be here shortly and will find a way to deal with you."

"But Percy didn't do anything!" Annabeth protested, anger filling her voice. Mr Baker however, merely snorted, and, with enough to contempt to fill a bathtub, if such thing were possibly, he stated "He's your boyfriend, I'd say that's a good enough reason."

Annabeth stared at him incredulously, whilst Percy gawked. Then, without warning, Annabeth jumped to her feet, with her stormy grey eyes penetrating into her elder's skulls, smoothly grabbed her bag, knocked over the pencil pot on the desk, and flounced off through the door.

The Director's office was, though part of the complex, was adjourned, so that cool air kissed her cheeks when she stepped out of the mouldy, dingy office. She attempted to quell the rage inside her, but her attempt gave no fruit, so she turned on her heel, and walked away from the complex and into the woods behind her.

After a quarter of an hour, Annabeth reached her destination. Tired, she slumped against the rock and looked out across the lake. Yesterday, they had been shown here on the tour, it was a beautiful lake at the foot of a mountain range of which she could see in the distance, silhouetted by the evening sun. She loved this type of sun, the one of late afternoon, when it wasn't sunset quite yet, but getting on it, so that upon looking at it, a spray of light obscured one's vision, and made it seem as though all was right, even when the world had fallen to pieces. Annabeth smiled to herself despite the conversation she had had not twenty minutes ago. Though it was chilly, Annabeth shrugged off her top and jeans so that she stood in her swimming costume. She had not had the time to change due too a certain event that had occurred, and in that instant, as she waded into the shallows, she was thankful for that.

It slightly puzzled Annabeth at how quickly the day had aged, and turned to the evening. She had not recalled it slipping through her fingers like sand, though ADHD sometimes did that to one. Shivering, Annabeth submerged herself in the water. She thought of the campfire that awaited her at eight, or hopefully anyway, and how much it would remind her of camp. She could return to it these holidays thankfully, and was very much looking forwards to it, except that she was worried of what Chiron would say once he learnt to how she had loosened her reign on her anger. He was going to be disappointed, and sad as well, so that Annabeth would dread meeting him. This was her father. Or almost anyway, he had raised her since she was seven and she had pushed herself beyond her limits, so as to not let him down.

So absorbed she was in her thoughts that she did not notice him. Did not notice the splashing of several arms through the water, or the way that the air was suddenly filled with a stench that reeked of sulphur.

And so it was not until she was under that she realised. Annabeth tried to scream, she was acutely aware of being held down under the water, not able to swim up, not able to breathe. Unless she got air in the next three minutes, she was dead. She tried to swim up, but found that she could not, a force so much more powerful than herself prevented her from breaking the surface. Panic started to fill her lungs, the blood pounding in her ears. She was going to die here. Now. After every thing she'd been through. Annabeth thought longingly of her blade, which she had left in her pockets on the shore.  
So stupid she had been.  
Oh gods, _so_ stupid.

And then, quite suddenly, the monster was pulled from on top of her, and, as if gravity had disappeared, she rose, and was greeted with the face of her boyfriend.

"Percy!" She breathed.  
Percy smiled wryly and lobbed her blade at her. She grinned back at him, and together they turned, as smoothly as a turn in water was possible, to face the monster.

It was unlike any monster the pair had ever faced before. And even years later, Annabeth could not clearly conjure up an image of it. The monster moved in a whirl, lashing out with tentacles and biting at the air with its fanged mouth. It struck terror like a knife into the hearts of those in vicinity. But though it was huge, terrifying, powerful it could not beat Percy. Not here, where said son of Poseidon was at his strongest. Between them, they brought the monster down to the depths of Tartarus, with Annabeth slashing with her sword relentlessly, and Percy sending incessant tidal waves. Perhaps, in retrospective, the monster had been megalomaniac, and so influenced the beliefs of the demigods, but at that moment it had seemed such a terror. Not the worst terror of whom they had faced. But a terror no less.

Percy aided their way back to the shore, using the currents to propel them as best as possible. Shivering, Annabeth stepped into the pebbles and said "I don't suppose you've got a towel?"

Percy shook his head, but gave her his jacket to compensate, dry because of Percy's abilities. They sat there for a few minutes, on the rocks, looking out at the lake, at the way the setting sun cast shadows across the water, and the sun slowly turned more to the colour of mortal blood.

"That was Mr Montford, wasn't it?" Percy inquired after a long silence.  
Annabeth nodded, and closed her eyes deep in thought.  
"Hey," Percy said, "Look at me."

It wasn't an easy task to accomplish; A romantic kiss shivering and exhausted and covered in blood, but they gave it their best shot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO**

As Annabeth has predicted, Mr Montford had disappeared, and made it as though he had never walked the face of the earth, let alone be principal to over two thousand pupils. Replacing said monster, was a jolly old man of the name 'Mr Alfonso'. He was a short, Hispanic guy with a bushy moustache and a thinning cap of grey hair, and to the rest of the students and teachers alike, it seemed that he had been there since the beginning of the school year. Of course, courtesy of the Mist, they never remembered his predecessor, a strict Mr Montford.

Annabeth sat side by side with Percy, of whom was toasting marshmallows on a long stick. It was half an hour after their unfortunate encounter with _that_ sea monster, and thanks to a quick shower, a towel and the merry, crackling campfire, they were both clean and dry. Annabeth felt more shaken than she would have liked to admit. This was not because of the monster she had faced (after Tartarus and the war, it took more than that to render her so shaken), but rather the fact of fighting a monster. Rather the bitter taste of anger. Anger that she could not even go on a school residential trip without having to fight monsters, that she would never lead the normal life of which she had dreamed about for so, _so_ long.

Annabeth sighed, and slid her arm around Percy's shoulders, who smiled at her, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He offered Annabeth a gooey marshmallow from his stick, which, after many years of practice from camp, was toasted to perfection. Grinning despite the dark mood she had succumbed to, she plucked one off his stick (or tried to, because i'm sure if you've ever tried to do so, you will have found it quite impossible), and popped it into her mouth. She found comfort in the way that the sweet tasted in her mouth, in the way Percy held her, in the way that in the dancing flames, she could've sworn that she saw Hestia, goddess of the hearth smiling up at her. The feeling of deja vu was overpowering and all too soon, a warm sensation, one that came from the familiarity of her surroundings, filled her inside, and she allowed herself to enjoy.

Annabeth roped her fingers in Percy's. They were walking towards the main building, a comfortable silence wrapping around them like fog. The couple walked aside from their cohorts, and expressed no desire to be near such wild animals. The copses of trees on either side of the path they followed leered over them. They seemed overbearing, powerful and important, but yet the trees seemed to guide them towards the illuminated complex in the distance.

Percy halted before they reached the automatic doors, and smiled at her. Annabeth frowned at him, confused. Then, with little warning, he leant in and pressed his lips to her. Not caring about their immediate vicinity, or what those in sundry might say upon seeing them, she leant in and requited the kiss. For a moment, the world fell away, leaving just her and Percy. Her troubles faded until she did not care anymore and the past, present and future was forgotten. Annabeth felt elated, as if she were flying, or dancing or spinning; possibly all three. In that instant, she understood why people said:

 _'Your love is my drug'_  
Because just then, she thought this was what is must be like to feel high. Like wings has sprouted on her back: as if Daedalus had made her her own set of wings. Addictive, but giving you the will to carry on. She could stay like this forever, closing the space between them and letting her problems melt like paraffin, with euphoria filling every pore in her body.  
But of course, like Icarus, she eventually flew to near to the sun, and they had break apart, both grinning like madmen. Both acutely aware that, from the windows above, their display had had an audience.  
After a minute of heavy silence, Annabeth grimaced and wiped her mouth.  
"Ew Seaweed Brain, you had marshmallow all around your mouth."

"I saw you, you know?"

Annabeth started, and looked up from the paper in her hand, where she was busy designing a new temple for Olympus.  
"You saw me when? Sorry, what?"  
Shan sighed impatiently, as if Annabeth were a very small, very dense child who could not quite grasp the concept of words.  
"I saw you with your boyfriend."  
"Ah, okay... When?"  
"Just now. Making out."  
Annabeth merely shrugged. She could sense the onslaught of insults about to come her way, and though she was tempted to call Shan a 'Jealous, good-for-nothing voyeur,' she choked back the remark. Annabeth was determined to avoid any more conflict after this morning. After punching Gretel, Annabeth had been put on probation, named a delinquent and been punished by having to wash up after every meal this week. In all honesty, Annabeth found this sentence rather light, especially considering that the attack was - she admitted - slightly unprovoked. But according to Mr Baker, it looked worse than it was. Besides, she was tired.

Shan looked surprised at Annabeth's reaction - or rather lack of a reaction - so apparently deemed it appropriate to pry. Also, apparently didn't deem her plastic nose very valuable, seeing as she was toeing the line. And the line was very fine.

"So, _Wise girl_ , what are you drawing?"  
Annabeth's head snapped up quicker than Arion. She glowered at her oppressor, who smiled a sickly sweet smile and said "Uh-oh, touched a nerve?"  
A muscle feathered in Annabeth's cheek.  
 _"Don't call me that."_  
"Why? That right reserved only for your boyfriend?" Shan said tauntingly.  
She _was_ right, the right to use such nickname was reserved solely for Percy. But she wasn't going to tell that to these bitches. Instead, she rolled her eyes, shuffled up in her bed, and pointedly drew up her sketchbook: a blatant sign.  
 _No_  
Annabeth had decided to ignore them: not in the way that you would be told by your parents, in the way that only causes more taunting comments, but in a regal way, that implies something like,  
 _'You irksome peasants are beneath me, I shan't talk to you because you are a waste of space.'_  
Or some other thing along those lines.

Shan obviously was either really very obtuse, or just very annoying - Most likely the latter - because grabbed Annabeth's sketchbook out of her hands, incidentally jogging such girl. She flipped to the beginning of the book, no easy feat considering the amount of pages stuffed into it and the general mess that comes with passion, and read aloud "Annabeth Chase, Designs for Olympus, if found, please return to me, Cabin Six, Camp half-blood." Shan looked up at Annabeth and looked up with a sneer, _"Camp Half-Blood? Cabin Six?"_

She continued to leaf through the pages, jeering at the daughter of Athena and dancing out of Annabeth's teach whenever she lunged for her book.

"Give it back Shan, that's important!"  
"Important!?" Shrieked Shan, "This little piece of crap is _important!?_ Honey, don't delude yourself!"  
Annabeth was fairly sure she was steaming at the ears, her face flushed red, her movements were clumsy, the anger she harboured had consumed her, making it hard to walk. This was her life's work, if she lost it...  
She pounced on Shan, but the girl gracefully sidestepped her. Their roommates watched in fascination.  
"Give it back!"  
"Nuh-uh darling."  
Annabeth watched in dismay, as Shan stuck her hand out of the window. She watched in dismay as Shan let go of the notebook. She watched in dismay as it fell into the river below them, and was carried far away.  
Then rage became her puppeteer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO. Also, don't worry, this won't be as dramatic as it's gonna seem**

Like a hurricane, she flew at Shan. Her movements were slow and sluggish, she was drunk on her own anger. That was it. Her dream. Her ambition. Her goal. Thrown out of the window like a meaningless piece of trash. Annabeth wanted to curl up and cry, to drown in her tears and let the bitter, sadness that came from pain absorb her. Yet despite this, adrenalin pumped through her, the sheer amount of anger within her powering Annabeth, in the way that petrol will power a car.  
She found herself unable to fight, as if she'd been intoxicated.

Intoxicated by love.

Intoxicated by anger.

Intoxicated...

Elise ran towards the pair, and attempted to pin Annabeth down in an attempt to sedate her. But to no avail. The demigod was a lot stronger than she, and so Elise found herself thrown to side. Annabeth jumped up, hot tears burning a path down her cheeks, and stormed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her so hard, it hit the wall with a resounding bang, and was almost flung off its hinges. Silence is the loudest noise, and the silence that hung in air after was white noise, or the roar of a hungry lion.

The daughter of Athena ran down the stairs, three steps at a time. She found that she did not care if she was seen crying. It was as though she had fallen into a well and could not climb back up, such was her despair. She found herself sprinting towards the Goode boys' wing, her thoughts solely on her boyfriend and someone who would hold her and console her, and perhaps, _oh Gods_ , perhaps, though it was a dim hope, he could retrieve her notebook from the river. Annabeth hurtled through the doors and into the sterile corridor of the boys', panting.

With a jolt, she realised that she had no idea which of these rooms belonged to Percy and his roommates, and so she slumped against the wall and sank to her knees, trying to formulate a plan; a way to find him without attracting attention.

As it turned out, it was no feat to find Percy. Like her, he had nightmares, and it was all too soon that she heard a shout she knew to be said demigod, call her name. A small part of her brain was endeared that he called for her, but her heart ached. As quietly as she dared, she ran to where the shout had come from, desperate to comfort her him. She flung open the door to the room from where he had called her name, and immediately ran over to him. Percy sat shaking on his bed, beads of sweat tracing their way down his handsome face. It was a like a punch in the gut, it hurt her beyond belief to see her lover, the strongest, bravest guy she had ever met rendered to such a state. And one where the most she could do was sit and hold his hand. His roommate's, a short hispanic guy and a scrawny blond caucasian stood at his side, feigning sympathy, though clearly ticked off, sighing as though this was a nightly occurrence. Percy saw her first, and a little reassurance washed over his face. He held his arms out to her. Annabeth heaved herself onto his bed and sat on the pillow besides him, clasped his hand firmly and squeezed it:

 _I'm here._

Percy glanced at her gratefully. These nightmares were something they shared, when before they shared a streak of grey in their hair, now it was the nightmares that tied them together. Nightmares and love.  
The nightmares which plagued their slumber every night. The love which kept them alive, like medicine. Annabeth pulled him closer into an embrace, tangling herself in his muscular arms, seeking the comfort she yearned for.

And then, quite suddenly, they were kissing. The world erupted into colours around them, and again, for the second time that night, Annabeth felt that sensation again. The sensation of flight. That beautiful, tender feeling as if she were soaring up in the sky. Emotion uncoiled itself in her. She felt love and passion. Music filled her ears like an orchestra, and she imagined Eros and Aphrodite were the conductors, carrying them away to a land where nothing mattered except that she and Percy were together. And here they were, dancing on the stage above the musicians, dancing, dancing, danci-?

"Oy guys! Cut the PDA!"

The couple broke apart blinking. Percy towards his audience and gave them a sheepish smile, one arm still tightly holding his girlfriend, Annabeth rolled her eyes, and gave the voyeurs a death glare, from which they backed away, alarm on their countenance. She tugged on her boyfriend's arm, indicating for him to follow, and clambered down the ladders.

"Where ya goin'?" Asked the Hispanic guy. Annabeth shrugged, and told them she was not sure, it wasn't there business. At that, the occupants of room 45, Percy's room, wolf whistled. Annabeth flushed scarlet, realising that she should have been more specific with her words; they probably had the wrong idea. Never mind. She didn't care anymore.

Cool night air kissed Annabeth's cheek as she swung open the door. They descended the steps quietly, clasping the other's hand as if for dear life, talking, sighing, bad mouthing. As they walked, Annabeth recounted the story of her notebook: her most prized possession full of drafts, had been thrown out of the window and into the river. Percy halted and looked at her with his beautiful sea green eyes reflecting the stars which scraped against the sky so far above. He offered her a small smile, and lifted his arms to hug her.

"Don't worry," he told her "I can speak to one of the nymphs here, I saw many, they can get that notebook back."  
"Really!?" Annabeth exclaimed, excitement and relief colouring her voice.  
"Sure, we'll go see one now."  
She stood on tiptoes - after many years of competition, Percy had finally gotten far taller and would most likely stay that way - and pressed her lips against his.  
He hugged her closer, and lifted her up. Annabeth began to laugh, a warm feeling expanding in her chest, as she rose, contentment filled her bones. Percy, by some miracle managed to heave her onto his shoulders. Her breath came out short and happy.  
"You sure you won't drop me will you Seaweed Brain?"  
"Me, drop you? Never! Now about your book."  
Annabeth started to feel giddy. Which was a strange emotion for her: she was usually abrasive and to the point and never, _never,_ giddy. But Percy, best boyfriend in the world, made her feel different things. And she loved him.

She slid down from Percy's shoulders and onto his back. With a laugh, Percy tromped downstream. After a few minutes, they reached a part of the river obscured from view of the dormitory block, he knelt and allowed his girlfriend to jump off his back. She sat at the edge of the river, suddenly tentative, wondering if this hope had been for nothing. Percy sat besides her, and watched the swirling currents at their feet. All too soon, a girl clambered out of the water and gave them a pointed glare, waiting to see what they wanted. She was rather pretty, looking like a petite, normal teenage girl, with the exception of the rather small chiton that hugged her body. Her hair was loose, flowing down her back in caramel waves, framing her small face with piercing clear eyes, a button nose and a full set of lips.

"What do you want Son of the Sea God?" She demanded, ice on her tongue.

Annabeth cleared her throat. "Just a small favour: you see, my notebook had the... Misdemeanour of ending up in your river and I'm sure it would be better for both of us if I could have it back, preferably dry, it is very important."  
The nymph deliberated, conflicted between possibilities. Annabeth pulled her infamous 'big grey eyes face' and hoped for the best. After a few minutes, that seemed to stretch into hours, the nymph nodded.  
"Very well, but _I_ also request a favour: I would like Poseidon's son to fetch me a leaf from that oak tree, no, not you young lady!"  
Annabeth had started after Percy but was recalled by the nymph. She found it somewhat uncanny to be called 'young lady' by someone who looked the same age as herself.  
"Why do you need an oak leaf?" She asked. The nymph smiled somewhat wistfully  
"They are treasures," she said "For every demigod party I help, I get a leaf. It helps me keep track of all the good I have done."  
Annabeth was so relived she almost wanted to sink to her knees and cry. It wasn't every day you met some Ancient Greek... _Creature_ (?), who genuinely just wanted to help. Most monsters or creatures wanted to kill any demigod who came their way. Even the most good natured ones. Those were often the worst in fact, beguiling and sneaky. Dimly, Annabeth wondered if this was a trick, but something told her it wasn't. At that moment, Percy came running back panting, a green oak leaf in his fingers. The nymph smiled again and took it from him.  
"I shall return with your book in a minute," she told the couple, as she swam off. Annabeth watched as the current took her around the bend and into the trees.

Five minutes later, the girl returned. Proudly, she presented the notebook to Annabeth, who gaped and took it from the nymph's palm. Annabeth was about to thank her when she disappeared into the water, leaving Athena's daughter and her boyfriend staring at the water in shock.

"Told you I'd get it back." Percy said after a freighted silence.

Annabeth nodded, a beam lighting up her face. She turned to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.  
"Thanks, Seaweed Brain."  
"Any time, Wise Girl."

They sat at the base of a tree and looked up at the stars. Annabeth gazed at Sagittarius and thought with a pang of Chiron. Lights out would have long since passed, all the campers would be asleep. A bout of homesickness passed over her like a wave.

"I miss camp," she said to Percy. He nodded and slid his arm around her shoulders, "Me too, but we'll be back this winter."  
Annabeth nodded, and rested her head against his shoulders. The feeling of deja vu seemed to weigh on her chest. It reminded her of a certain night she and Percy had spent on the stables of the Argo II.  
They stayed like this for a while: talking, laughing, being at ease, and after a while, they were fast asleep.  
That night, no nightmares shook them from their slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

"And what, may I ask, is this?"

Annabeth's eyes fluttered and opened. For a moment, she was confused as to where she was. It appeared that she found herself in a clearing under an oak tree, dappled light playing on the ground, birds chirping in the trees - the dawn chorus? - Percy's arms were around her and a very surly Dan seemed to be glowering at them.

 _Oops..._

Rubbing her eyes, she heaved herself out of Percy's arms and nudged him awake. He awoke with a start and looked about himself. He uttered a little yelp at seeing their instructor. Annabeth hastily got to he feet and pulled her boyfriend up too. They looked at Dan expectantly, to find he wore the same expression as themselves: awaiting an answer.

"It's half nine," he told them, "You were due at the canteen half an hour ago to meet with the rest of Group Four,"

"...Yeah?" Percy asked, ever unsure in how to answer.

"I was told to come and look for you, and I stumbled upon... ah... this scene."

"Ooh, yep, sorry about that um, we'll just be coming." 

Percy and Annabeth sprinted to the climbing wall, their first activity that day. They skidded into the glade and were greeted by wolf whistles echoing through the crowd, accompanied by crude remarks.

"Oy, overslept a bit? Both of you? what were you doing all night eh?"

"Chase, your lipstick's smudged,"

"That's not an awful lot of buttons done up Jackass."

And another comment Annabeth picked up, a particularly vulgar ones about the state of her knees. But these were just normal teenagers. Normal teenagers making things up to put other down. Gods of Olympus, Annabeth wasn't even wearing lipstick. Heads held up, they shouldered their way through the crowd and to the front, where the box full of harnesses, carabiners and ATCs sat. From the years at camp, they were well acquainted with climbing, however they were accustomed to bouldering.

With lava and rocks cascading on their heads.

And so the harnesses seems somewhat foreign in Annabeth's grip when she picked it up. She knew how to put it on, of course. It was simply not fitting that a demigod should not know how use one. You never knew when a monster would challenge you to a, too-the-death race up a mountain. But still, it just was not what she was used to.

As well as a harness, she also knew how to use an ATC, a GriGri and could tie a variety of complex knots which assisted her in both climbing and sailing. She donned the harness, though did so awkwardly, owing to the gaze of her classmates burning on her back, and proceeded to tie a 'Figure of Eight,' in the rope. She doubled it and expertly tied a 'Double Fisherman's for safety. On the other end of the rope, Percy did the same. Annabeth approached the wall cautiously, scanning it up and down in search for a route to climb. After half a minute of pondering, she settled for a blue one. It was hard, but not too hard, so still did justice to her skill. In the fashion of a ninja, Annabeth ascended and descended the wall in five minutes thirty, which was really pretty good considering it was not the easiest route and not what she usually did.

Percy scaled it almost as fast. Annabeth wanted to yell at him to slow down, she was taking in the rope in at a frantic pace, but decided not to mention it after the speed of her own turn. He landed back on the ground with a jarring crash. The chalk on the mats flew into the air like a snowstorm, temporarily obscuring Percy from her view.

"Not bad Seaweed Brain, but not as good as me!"

"Ha! You wish." 

The next activity that they were subjected to was a spot of sailing. Paired again with Percy, Annabeth hauled up the mainsail and unfurled the jibs, whilst Percy was excelling at being a klutz as he tried to put the rudder into place.

"Try not to drop it will you. Jeez, your supposed to be good with boats," Annabeth scolded him, though through laughter. Percy yawned widely and stretched his arms. "I am, just not when I got three hours sleep," he said. Annabeth yelped suddenly, diving for the rudder and rescuing just in time, before it sunk to the bottom of the lake. "Gods Seaweed Brain, snap out of it!" Percy mumbled something inaudible and closed his eyes, letting the sun beat down on his face. Annabeth took this as an advantage. She dunked her hands in the icy water and flung it at him. Perhaps the water wouldn't affect him, but the cold would sure wake him up.

The boats were Venture's, small boats with a centreboard in the middle, a mainsail and a jib and a rudder at the back. In a compartment beneath the bow, was nestled a basket filled with various different ropes for various different purposes. They sat on the benches that ran around the gunwale and exchanged jokes and stories about their respective schools as they waited for Dan to allow them to untie the painter.

Five minutes later, they were on the water, tacking against the wind that battered the trees around the lake. Annabeth sat at the stern, helming, her hair flying out behind her. As she sat there, she kept an eye on the mainsail, repeating those instructions she had been told so long ago.

 _Flappy sail, unhappy sail,_

 _Flappy sail, unhappy sail..._

It was a relentless drone in her head. At the bow, Percy sat, his face wan, one hand on the jib sheets. the other nervously fiddling with the buoyancy aid. The wind roared in Annabeth's ears like the Nemean Lion, dangerous, treacherous. The thought of the lunch that awaited her after this activity was tantalising, and she found herself yearning for food. As if on cue, her stomach rumbles like thunder.  
Wait... That wasn't her stomach.

A vibrant flash in the air made Annabeth almost leap out of her skin. The first signs of rain began to strike the water and the boat like an axe. Annabeth glanced to the bow and saw with a start, the ripples in the water making their way towards them. Fast. She tightened her hold on the tiller, readying herself for its blow.

The wind hit them with such a force that she was almost knocked out of the boat.

"Are you okay?!" Percy yelled from the front, the wind muffling his voice.  
"Yes! Ready about!"  
The boat swung around to meet the other side of the lake. But suddenly, it heeled over precariously. Percy furiously tried to right them, but the wind was too strong.  
"Did you let go of the tiller?!"  
"No!"  
There was a furious scrambling as the pair tried to set it the boat. Then, without warning, whole vessel gave a sudden lurch, and Percy and Annabeth were thrown into the water.  
"The lighting!" Gasped Annabeth  
"I wouldn't worry, Zeus won't zap us or the water. My dad'll probably cast his remains into Tartarus if he does!"  
They managed to force the boat into its normal position. From the water, Annabeth studied the jib sheets.  
"Percy you Seaweed Brain! You forgot to take the jib sheets out of the cleats!"

And Suddenly they were laughing. Laughing and laughing for no reason. And even when the speedboat hauled them aboard, they were still laughing.

Annabeth sat down heavily at the table. Percy sat besides her, a steaming plate of brisket and a coke on front of him. They were still a little wet from their dip in the lake, even Percy, having allowed himself to get sodden so as not to let Annabeth suffer alone. His finger's snaked through her's beneath the table, and a little bit of warmth flooded from her hand and through her body. In her free hand, Annabeth picked up her sandwich and took a large bite. It was nice: baguette filled with bacon. She had chosen a simple bottle of sparkling water for a drink, and uncapped it with her teeth.

"I don't think I need a bath now, after that swim in the lake," Percy murmured through chattering teeth. Annabeth smiled and picked a clump of algae out of his hair.  
"Well you better, because I'm not kissing you until you do. Or brush your teeth, gods your breath smells like fish."  
Percy laughed loudly, causing many of those in sundry to look in their direction, startled. It felt good to laugh again so freely after Tartarus. Percy reached over and took a swig of her water. Then he breathed on her.  
"How's that for breathe?" He asked  
"Ew Seaweed Brain! Give me some of your coke now!"

They walked hand in hand to their next activity. The autumnal air was cold and biting. Annabeth sighed, and drew Percy's coat up around her. She could feel her her notebook tucked up in its deep pockets. They were headed to the archery range, for the third and final activity of the day, the brown leaves swirling at their feet.

As they were walked through a path in the forest, the whoops of kids resounding all around them, when Percy tugged her into the trees. She rolled her eyes. "Seaweed Brain, we need to get going."

He pulled his cute pouty seal face and said "Just one kiss ?"  
"Okay, okay."  
Annabeth stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. The world disappeared in a haze of colours, swirling, nauseating. But still enthralling. Percy laughed against her lips, and wrapped her in an embrace before breaking apart.  
"I am persuasive aren't I?"  
Annabeth laughed and punched his arms. "Yes. Yes you are. Now let's go to archery."


	7. Chapter 7

Percy was bad at archery. Very, _very_ bad. Annabeth would have thought that after so many years at Camp Half-Blood training with the Apollo kids, his shooting would have got somewhat better. Apparently not. As she got bulls-eye over and over again, Percy, Seaweed Brain he was, shot them so far out of range, he shot one behind him and the instructor barely had time to yelp, "Hit the deck, holy crap!" Before the arrow whizzed over the groups -gathered behind him to watch his disastrous performance - with a merry whistle. Not even years later, had Annabeth comprehended how he had managed that.

Dan sighed as Annabeth walked, or swaggered really, to the front of the group and stood before the target, bow tight in her grip. She decided not to care that _Mr James_ , had sighed as so or thought her a show off. Or perhaps was just sick of the sight of her, with she constantly flouting around with her boyfriend. Carousing through the day, seemingly without a care. Or so he had told her and Percy upon finding them that morning.

 _Carousing?_  
She was seventeen, she wasn't going to have teachers breathing down her neck all the time. She hefted the bow and plucked an arrow from the table, which played host to the myriad of blunt arrows they were using. Annabeth slotted the arrow into the bow, as she had done many times and pulled back on the bowstring. She imagined herself become the bow, the arrow, the target. Imagined the moment it would hit the yellow circle in the centre and imagined the elation. Elation of which she had indeed felt many a time but never ceased to lose its joy. She let go of the taut string in her hand and let the arrow fly. It sang like a bird, with a graceful and flawless flight. With a _thump_ , it embedded itself in the circle marking bullseye.  
The class stared in awe, Dan sighed again and marked a line on a piece of paper.  
"Miss Chase, seventh bullseye." He mumbled with acquiescence.  
 _Beat that suckers._

It was around five when Annabeth, Percy and their cohorts finally finished their activity. They traipsed out in an unorganised mess, kicking twigs and leaves as they passed through the woods. Stepping out into the sunlit clearing where the complex sat was like drawing back the curtains first thing in the morning before school. The sunlight was blinding and bright. Hisses rippled through the party, as if they were vampires. Well, they were pretty much. Dan gave them a little wave of the hand, signalling for them too go to the complex and frolic around doing whatever they wanted to do to occupy their time until dinner. Percy bowed and held out an arm to Annabeth, like an escort. She curtsied gracefully and rested her arm on his. They marched to the building in that fashion, talking in refined voices and laughing. Laughing so hard it stung.

Percy pushed open the doors of the recreation room and lead his girlfriend in. The room was big, it had an upholstered bench running around its perimeter, and big windows, which filtered the light into the place. It was dotted with ping-pong tables, snooker tables, cupboards full of board games and computers. They sat down heavily in the corner, on one of the benches, and wrapped their arms around each other, drawing comfort from the other's presence, as if their heart's could sustain not only the body of his host, but also of its lover. If one faltered, so would their partner.

After a long, slow hour of kissing, a bell rang out through the halls. Annabeth stood, gasping for air like a fish. Percy heaved himself to his feet alongside her and roped an arm around her shoulders. They were the last out of the room, conflicted between going to dinner, or spending some time alone down here, but were dragged out in the end by a small boy in Annabeth's class names Matt.

"Nuh-uh lovebirds," he had said wit preamble, "Not leaving you in here alone." And he had promptly grabbed both their arms, and with surprising strength dragged them out into the corridor and towards the mess hall. Annabeth's laughter has been repressed so much she had thought she would explode.

The food wasn't much. Or perhaps it was, but Annabeth, being so accustomed to the delicious food at camp, found it meagre and dull. She bit into a grey slice of pepperoni pizza, and pulled a face. With a jolt, she was reminded of Tartarus. When she had woken up in Hermes's shrine, to find Bob munching on such food. Panic began to rise in her throat, nausea threatened to crash over her, her pulse picked up speed. She clasped a hand to Percy's arm to steady herself. He looked at her quizzically, but then saw her expression. Gently, he drew her nearer to him, until she almost disappeared into his T-Shirt.

"Tartarus?" He whispered in her ear. Annabeth nodded mournfully, choking back on a whimper that came with the memories that flooded over her. She wasn't ashamed to react like this with Percy, he was a) her boyfriend, and b) suffered from the same: Same random panic attacks and whimpers and memories that accompanied their voyage through Tartarus. He was son of Poseidon, he couldn't drown, yet sometimes the memories seemed too. Seemed to drown both of them alike. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

The sun was barely visible over the horizon. Peeking out as if it were a child hiding behind the sofa as thy watched a horror film. The sky was stained in hues of red, orange and pink, in suck enthralling shades that it was possible to forget oneself. A vague recollection nibbled at Annabeth's brain: a Cherokee story Piper had told her, passed down from her grandfather. Something about walking towards the sun and somethings out the land of the dead or ghosts? It was a lore along those lines. Annabeth imagined doing that now. Walking towards the orange ball of gas - Apollo, whatever- and never looking back.

She and Percy lay side by side in the grass. It was an hour before curfew, and a few kids, themselves included, were enjoying the crisp, beautiful evening. Cliques of said kids adorned the clearing, interspersed among various clumps of tall grass and trees.

"I wonder, should we Iris-Message Chiron, one of these days?" Annabeth was saying, "Ask how camp is, see a friendly face."

"I guess, I do miss the old Centaur. Also Grover."  
Grover was their old Satyr friend who was incidentally, also Lord of the Wild.  
"Mmm, well, let's do that tomorrow morning, 'right Seaweed Brain?"  
"'Kay."  
Percy yawned and hoisted himself into a sitting position. Annabeth hooked an arm around his shoulder and leant her weight on him as she sat up. He turned and smiled tiredly at her, his green eyes gleaming in the moonlight. With a smile in return, she pressed her lips to his, and at once the world was sucked away. It seemed to Annabeth, that the world could be ending and she would not have cared, she would have stayed in that position anyway, dying with Percy.  
Okay that had pretty much happened, a little close to home.  
The world was saved anyway, the most the gods could do was grant her this time with Percy. To let her drift endlessly, with feet above the ground and let the regrets and qualms she had slide away into oblivion. To let her this moment without troubling her every minute of every day. She continued to soar like a bird, at ease.  
And... _No_.  
She spoke to soon.  
They finally broke apart and stared towards the sun, which had something... Odd about it now.  
"Tell me that's not what I think it is!" Percy pleaded.  
The sun crashed to the ground before them.


	8. Chapter 8

It really was most extraordinary, Annabeth thought, that the sun had quite literally crashed at their feet and the mortals saw nothing strange about it. _Really_ most extraordinary. Apollo hopped out of his chariot and faced them with a grin.  
"Ah, sorry about disturbing... what you were doing, Aphrodite begged me to leave you in peace but you see, I have a rather pressing matter _you_ must attend to."  
Percy rubbed his eyes and yawned pointedly. "Sorry not interested, another time."  
Annabeth glared at herself in the reflection of Apollo's Ray Bans, her eyes a steely grey, her face, even in the darkness of his glasses, beet red with ignominy. The thought that the gods had been looking at them? Boy, was that embarrassing?

"What do you want Apollo?" **(A/N: I know that Apollo got cast down to earth as a mortal, so this could just be before that I guess.)** She demanded, anger thickening her tone. The god in question sighed and drummed his fingers along the side of his chariot - sorry, Lamborghini.

"Now is that really any way to address such a glorified deity as myself?"

"If by glorified deity, you mean glorified bastard then, yeah, I do think so." Percy muttered under his breath. Annabeth stifled a gasp and elbowed him in the ribs, praying too Athena that Apollo hadn't heard such a statement. Screw that, she was praying to Poseidon, Athena had no affection for her daughter's sarcastic boyfriend with the brains of a goldfish, as the goddess deigned him to be, and would gladly allow him to be blown to bits by Apollo. The god standing before them beheld the couple with fascination.

"You know," he said "Usually I expect a small sacrifice and a festival in my honour... But, I guess I can't implode you, or you cannot perform the task I need you to do."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and heaved a deep sigh.  
"What do you want us to do Apollo?"  
"Ah, well you see, I had the little misdemeanour of misplacing my new IPhone 6s, and would very much appreciate it if you could retrieve it for me."  
"Is that it?" Percy seethed. The steam coming from his ears almost visible. "You want us to fetch you your lost cell phone?"  
Apparently oblivious to Percy's anger, Apollo smiled happily. "Glad you understood, thank you very much, I'm sure I only dropped it in this complex so seeing as you're staying here... Well, see you here in an hour."  
Annabeth and Percy had the presence of mind to turn away as the god assumed his true form and disappeared in a haze of golden light. They were left alone again, standing in the glorious evening light with anger hanging in the air, the sun back in its rightful place, staring at them with ever-present, all-seeing eyes.  
"How dare him?" Percy fumed, "It's not even important, all he wants is for us to get him his gods-forsaken phone, for the love of Poseidon."  
" _Di immortales_ , I know! But he's a god, so we better do what he wants."  
Percy sighed resignedly and linked his fingers through Annabeth's.  
"Come on, let's go and get a godly smartphone."

They combed the whole grounds, as if they were projecting for gold, their hand's pickaxes and their eyes lanterns. Once they had searched the gardens to no avail, they stumbled inside, prepared to scour the rooms inside the reserve. Yawning and dragging their feet, leaning against each other for support. Neither Percy nor Annabeth had slept well last night, and so nine o'clock felt like five in the morning.

"Let's try the library."

"Mmm... Okay," Percy murmured, his voice slurred. Outside, the rain began to strike the windows like tears on one's skin. Kids - ever melodramatic - screamed and sprinted inside in gaggles. In the way of water through a dam, they burst through the main doors laughing and whooping, flouncing around the foyer. Percy dragged Annabeth into a corridor to avoid being trampled in the stampede. Gods, these kids were like elephants. The almost sulphurous stench of water in a concealed space was overbearing and hit Annabeth like a wave. She gagged and spluttered, choking on her repulse. Percy wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, and then spun her around to face him. _Like tango._ His face neared her's.

"Percy, the gods are watching."

He smiled wryly, cupped her head in his hand and shrugged, "I don't care. Aphrodite will be besides herself."

Annabeth muffled a laugh with her hand and rolled her eyes. "Fine, one kiss." She stood on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. "Thank you," Percy whispered against her lips. Annabeth recalled watching The Hobbit with her father once, back home in Frisco. She remembered the way that Legolas had leapt up a falling bridge. Using each falling brick to push him upwards, as the world fell away beneath his feet. It shouldn't have been possible; It defied every law of physics, yet somehow he had managed it. And the same was this. These lips on her lips, these arms circulating her body, this trade of love and passion. This... This experience of being enamoured so deeply that whatever you thought you knew would fade away. Her, a daughter of Athena and a son of Poseidon exchanging these emotions,passion squeezing at her heart like a fist. This love. Like Legolas, they were doing something impossible. Their dynasty did not allow this. Yet whilst Legolas had crossed a falling bridge, they had built a new one.

Percy leant deeper into the kiss. So deep, as deep as Tartarus, as deep as Nyx, as deep as Chaos. They became one person, one soul, one beating heart. And each moment they treasured and drew comfort from. They were drowning and suffocating in Eros. Love asphyxiating them, choking them. We are told of a myth that at the beginning, humans were one person, a woman and a man in one: Two heads,four arms, four legs and so forth. And that 'God,' split us up because he feared our power. Blasphemy? Maybe. But Annabeth understood it now, that she and Percy could have been, should have been one. She did not believe in said myth, but as she and Percy closed the space between them, she understood where it had come from. And the fact that Percy was here beneath her fingers, on her lips, all around her was all she wanted, all she needed, all she could ha-?

There was the sudden blaring of music and the over head lights clicked on. Had they ever been off? Percy and Annabeth broke apart staring at each other, then at their audience, who clapped and whistled appreciatively. Students from various schools were standing in the foyer, laughing at their performance. The couple blushed so hard they turned magenta. In the background, 'Nine-in-the-afternoon by Panic! At the Disco blasted out of someone's phone. Annabeth could almost hear her eulogy being spoken. In these short few past days, she had embarrassed herself a lot, carousing around with her boyfriend so much that she was sure her peer's thought they were indulging in debauchery. But now, her reputation, if she ever had one, crashed to her feet around her. She was as good as dead.

 _'Back to the street where lovers meet'_

She missed Camp Half-Blood.

"You damned, useless voyeurs," Annabeth seethed at them. There was the general 'Oooh,' in reply that was expected of high school kids, when they deemed something insulting. "Go back to whatever hole you crawled from," Percy added.

"Yeah?" a kid answered, "And you can go back to hell." Percy stumbled backwards as if he had been punished. The cuss was weak, but like an arrow, it struck close to home. And hit its target. Annabeth stepped forwards, fists clenched, every fibre in her screaming to attack to kill this kid. This ignorant, chowderheaded, benighted excuse for a child. He was wet behind the ears. He was infuriating. _He_ could suffer in Tartarus. See how this runt liked death. _Okay, rein yourself Annabeth, you said so yourself, he doesn't know the peril you faced._

Percy regained his composure and reached an arm out to restrain her. "Not your fight." He whispered. "Leave him be."

 _If you can't you force, use words._ Annabeth stared down at the kid and bared her teeth. "I'm sure you've been told, but you are a benighted, lacking, anaemic, chowderheaded, gods-forsaken piglet, and for the love of Hades, I hope you suffer in The Fields of Punishment for all eternity!"

The kid looked both taken aback and confused as to both what he had said (Ignorant twit), and as to the reaction he had got. "Calm down, _Wise Girl_ , I didn't say anything to you, only to your little boyfriend over her." He sneered, malice dripping from his voice like blood.

"Oh all right then," She stepped forwards, "Well, come, at me bro!" Annabeth cried. She cringed as soon as the words had left her lips. That was something Leo would say, not her.

The kid stepped forwards with a smirk. "Right, okay. Okay just you and me. Let's see how badly you do without your boyfriend behind your back eh? Whiny good for nothing girl. Dumb blonde incarnate."

"Why you little sexist pig!? You really wanna test me?"

"Uh-huh mate."

Annabeth stepped closer to him and drew her fists up. The music had dimmed and the students had gathered around she and her oppressor, chanting, rooting some for her, most for the boy. Vaguely, Annabeth knew that this was untactful. It was not Athena, not her. But anger had driven her like a car into a frenzy. She swung her fist up ready to strike, the world swirled in a haze, blurring around her. Only the runt on front of her was in focus and the anger that hammered inside her. Fury so palpable the world seemed to hold its breath. Colours ,airs mixed into each other, she stepped forwards into a fighting stance and -

"Annabeth Chase. Stop" A voice said, different from the rest of the crowd. And with those two words, Annabeth gasped and shuddered in the way someone would when they died. But she wasn't dying. Percy stood over her. He held out a hand and she took it gratefully. She wiped her brow and addressed her crowd. "Sorry, um... That, that was slightly uncalled for, just that hit a little close to home."

"Ha!" Someone called from the audience "You went to hell for your holidays?"

 _Wouldn't you like to know?_ But she bit back her anger.

She and Percy stood patiently at the rendezvous and waited for Apollo to return, IPhone tightly held in Percy's hand. After the disastrous experience they underwent, Annabeth and Percy had recovered the phone in the restroom. Well, Percy had, Annabeth had refused to put a foot over the threshold of the men's bathroom. The sun was only just visible over the horizon, and stars were beginning to light up the sky. As they watched, said sun began to hurtle towards them. It crashed at their feet again, and Apollo slid out of his now a Jaguar. "Ah, you got it, cheers!"

Percy lobbed him his phone, which the god caught with ease, swiftly like a bird his hand darted out and wrapped around the mobile. "I guess I should give you a token of my appreciation, um how's this?"

At Annabeth's feet, appeared a hamper of...? She drew the dishcloth off the top tentatively, as if it were poison. In the basket revealed a mountain of... Sweets? Yes, a mound of blue candies from a shop called Sweet on America. In her peripheral vision, Annabeth saw Percy smile and a recollection clocked inside her. Of course, this was the sweet shop where Sally worked at.

"Well, thanks Apollo." She said.

"I should thank you."

Apollo saluted, and ducked into his car... no sorry, Truck? In a split second of turning away from the god and a blur of light, Percy and Annabeth were once again left alone. Percy grinned and picked up the hamper.

"So...? Do you want the laces or can I have them?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Annabeth looked at her hands and gasped. They were covered in shards of glass, which dug mercilessly into her palms. Horror-struck, she was unable to tear her gaze away, as the glass crawled up her arm, each cut bringing fresh, raw pain that racked her body. Annabeth let loose a torrid scream that resounded around the bleak, barren land that was... Tartarus. The daughter of Athena stumbled to her feet off-kilter and nauseous, fear crashing over her like a wave. A shout behind her almost blasted her off her feet. She began to blunder through the mist, away, away from the river Cocytus and the pain it wrought. A shadow seemed to be chasing her; one so huge and large it threatened to swallow her up in its gargantuan figure. Her heart began to pound in her head, hammering at her rib cages furiously. All of a sudden, Percy materialised besides her, urging Annabeth on, warning her of its danger. She reached out a tentative hand toward his and he made to take it, except when his fingers touched her's, they turned to smoke and drifted away. Annabeth gasped. She halted, and stared at her boyfriend in shock. Percy opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off. As if he were being sucked into a vortex, he was swallowed into the shadow._  
No  
 _Percy, no._  
 _She yelled a scream of defiance and anguish. Annabeth drew her sword and turned to the shadow. Pulse racing, she slashed frantically to the unseen force. A sudden icy cold grip held her, and she found herself being dragged towards the shadow._

 _"Percy!" She screamed. "Percy, Percy, Percy!"_

 _Annabeth was suddenly falling. She landed in a glade heavily, with a bone-jarring crash. Slowly, she heaved herself onto her feet and stared about herself. As she watched, frozen, the gnarled, dead trees around her moved. Out of the trunks came demons. Many, many of them. They assumed the form of_ Arai _, old hags who soon surrounded the demigod. Annabeth raised her sword, but her arm screamed in pain, and petrification threatened her. The glass was still travelling up her body... Towards her heart. With a final war cry, she charged one of the demon grannies. She dissipated into dust, and Annabeth rejoiced. But her rejoice was short lived._  
 _Helpless._  
 _Annabeth was frozen like stone and unable to do anything as her sight fogged, and blindness stole her vision. She stumbled up and shouted for help but none came. The world around her swirled into a haze. Fear drummed through her body, more powerful and stronger than before. Around her, the Arai took delight in shouting death threats, but she could not see them._

 _"Percy! Percy!"_

 _Annabeth found her vision suddenly cleared. She stood at the edge if an abyss, beneath her churned a river. A turmoil of terror and regret. It cried to her, proclaiming all the awful deeds she had done. Hands over her ears, Annabeth fell to her knees and groaned. The glass was at her breast now, threatening her heart. Like a song, the river sang and called to her, pleading for the girl to jump in to her death. Annabeth smiled to herself. She unsteadily got to her feet and walked to the edge._

 _One step forwards._

 _Death._

 _Eyes closed, she leapt, plummeting down, down, down. As she feel she screamed and the screamed and screamed. The water was like cement, the brine stung as it washed over her skin. She was drowning, drowning in the water and the sorrowful declarations of the voices of the Acheron. And she drowned and she shouted_

 _"Percy! Percy!"_

Annabeth woke with a start, her nightmare emblazoned on her eyelids. Hands clamped her down, and she thrashed and grunted to no avail, "Percy! Percy!"

"I'm here, shh." Whispered a voice. Her eyelids wrenched open, and she found herself back in her bed in the dorm. Around her stood Elise, Shan, Courtney, Percy and... Mr Alfonso, Dan and two other teachers of whom in her drowsy state, Annabeth could not place. Annabeth, suddenly self-conscious and blushing hard, drew her covers tighter around herself and slid against the headboard. Mr Alfonso crouched besides her, his moustache twitching.

"We were awoken by your screaming," He informed her, "You were calling for some 'Percy.'"

Percy sidled up to her side and subtly placed his warm hand in her's. She looked down in alarm, expecting them to turn to smoke. "That would me." He said, at the same time as Dan pointed over to the person in question and said in a bored monotone "That would be him."

Glancing down at their linked hands, of which had been attempted to be hidden under the covers, Mr Alfonso smiled slightly, which took Annabeth by some degree of surprise. He ruffled her bedhead in a fatherly manner, and withdrew from her side, too where the other teachers stood. Gesturing for her to follow, he said, "Come, have some hot chocolate downstairs. You come as well Mr...?"  
"Jackson." For a moment, shadow of shock passed over Mr Alfonso's face. But as quickly as it had come, it was gone.  
"Yes, come as well Mr Jackson, I would like to talk to you about something."  
Exchanging worried glances, Percy and and Annabeth walked after him, out of the door.

"So," Annabeth ventured "What did you want to talk to us about."  
"Ah, I'm just going to give you some hot chocolate and ask you a few questions, that's all, daughter of Athena." Mr Alfonso said.  
Annabeth gave a yelp, and stared at him in shock. Her hand crept towards her dagger, expertly hidden in the waistband of her jeans. The headteacher saw, and laughed.  
"Relax, I'm not a monster, I'm a demigod too and I'm intrigued by you and your boyfriend."  
"... _Oh_. And what's your parentage?"  
"Demeter." He said with a smile. He held his hand out towards one of the plants adorning the main entrance and laughed in a childlike manner, as he began to bend them into obscure shapes. Percy stepped up besides him and looked at the teacher nervously.  
"Yeah, you're a demigod, but that doesn't reassure me. I've met a lot of demigods as bad as monsters."  
Mr Alfonso rolled his eyes and sighed. "Chill out would you. Even if I were evil, which I am not, I am unarmed, and you, clearly, are not, for the love of Hades."

They pushed open the kitchen door and stepped inside. The aroma of freshly baked bread and cake hit Annabeth like a blow. She inhaled the sweet smell of a bakery, recalling her favourite patisserie in San Fransisco and how the owners knew her and always slipped her an extra biscuit, how the coffee tasted on her mouth and her brother's always pined for the delicious juice. Mr Alfonso waved them to the table, signalling for them to sit. Percy and Annabeth slid into the wooden stools and watched as the headteacher of Norrison bustled around the kitchen whistling. He turned the kettle on and grabbed the time of cocoa powder. He grabbed three mugs and began to shovel spoons upon spoons of the powder into each cup.  
After a few minutes, he brought the three stealing mugs to the table and slid into a seat across from them.  
"So... Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, famous demigods, lovers, part of the seven, and... Tartarus. Saved Olympus... How many times? Well it is an honour to meet you."  
Annabeth blushed and squirmed under the attention, as her principal sang her and Percy's praises. She wanted the headteacher to shut up, but he carried on nattering. "What were you dreaming about, Miss Chase?" He finally whispered, finally silent. Annabeth stared at her mug, her nightmare like a video replaying in her head. She could smell, taste, touch the fear and the anger she had felt burning through her in her slumber. The anger and despair she had succumbed to. After a long pause, she said in a small voice, "Tartarus."  
Mr Alfonso nodded slowly. "I thought so."

It was half one in the morning by the time they were done with their cocoa and conversations, so Mr Alfonso allowed Percy and Annabeth to crash in the room next to his so as to not awake their roommates.( **A/N: Sorry to disappoint you perverts, but there are two single beds)**  
"Dibs the window!" Percy exclaimed, plonking himself down on the bed nearest the window and leaning against the wall with a deep sigh. Annabeth shrugged and flopped onto her respective bed. "Well, it'll be your own fault when you're woken up at six because of the light." She fumbled in her pocket for the pencil which seemed to inhabit said pocket, and fished her notebook out of her other pocket.  
"Another design for the gods, Miss Architect of Olympus?" Percy inquired, one eye open.  
"Mm hm, I was thinking about a temple for Athena here. The domed roof will be made of glass, I'll have to design it in a way so that the light falls in patterns and is not to bright or dark, ah yes, I need to include the trajectory angles here and oh, a suspension beam here and a- are you laughing at me?"  
"Wouldn't dream of it Wise Girl. I learnt that the hard way."  
"Too right, you did."


	10. Chapter 10

Annabeth awoke to a sharp rapping on the door. She shot up faster than Arion and blinked uncertainty.  
 _Where was she?_  
Oh yes, the room besides Alfonso's after the events of the last night. Oh gods. The recollection previous night crashed over her, making her slightly dizzy. In her peripheral vision, Annabeth saw Percy sliding out of bed, the covers sliding off his bare chest and... _Di immortales._ She tried not to stare, honestly, she did, but it was admittedly difficult. Percy caught her line of sight, and flashed her his signature troublemaker smile. He winked knowningly, and Annabeth flushed scarlet. The rapping increased with great rapture, and Annabeth heaved a deep sigh. She slid out of her bed and to the door, to be greeted by her smiling principal. She smiled wearily at him, and raised a hand.  
"Good morning sir."  
"Morning Annabeth, Percy. Skip along to your room now and get dressed quick so you're not late. If anyone asks, you were with me the night, oh and put something on Jackson."  
Percy smiled sheepishly, and slipped on the dressing gown Annabeth lobbed at him. Grinning like Jack-O-Lanterns, they traipsed through the halls, hands linked, conversation flying between them.

Percy left her at Wing C, towards his own room, Annabeth stumbled down wing A too hers, suddenly very aware of how tight her night shirt was, or how short her shorts were. Almost nervously, she prised open the door and slipped inside her dormitory. The other girls, Courtney, Shan and Elise sat on one of the beds aside each other, arms crossed, faces expectant.

 _Woah, slightly intimidating_.

Three mean bullies, staring at her with a purpose. Despite this, Annabeth smiled brightly, the sunshine filtered in through the window, warming her face and casting patterns on the ivory walls. She wasn't afraid of them. Ha! As if.  
"Hey, sleep well?" Annabeth asked cheerily.  
Her roommates were taken off guard, and glanced at each other questioningly. Clearly, this wasn't in their script. Not what they rehearsed, and so they had to improvise. Elise sneered at looked at her condescendingly. "Very well, thank you, but tell us, how did you sleep last night? Oh wait, you were with your'-she snapped her fingers as if trying to resurface a memory-'Seaweed Brain all night. _So, not very well?_ " She snickered and smiled, eyebrows raised suggestively.  
Annabeth tensed, but her smile only wavered slightly. She played for dumb blonde, and despite the blatant assumption, said, "That's rather an innuendo, don't you think?"  
Elise looked exasperated, and looked at her oppressor as if she were something off the bottom of her Huaraches."Honey, it's not an Innuendo, it's a statement."  
Annabeth smacked her palm to her forehead. "Silly me, of course. Hate to disappoint ladies, but Percy and I were with Mr Alfonso all night. Discussing _issues_."  
"That _issue_ of your anger management. Or perhaps that one of you flouting around with your boyfriend every second of every day."  
With a smile still on her face, Annabeth held her finger up in an obscene gesture at Elise, who gasped and started to her feet. Annabeth smiled sweetly.  
"Whose got anger management problems now?"

Percy was still laughing at Annabeth's retelling of her and Elise's little dispute. They were back at the lake, hauling canoes into the murky, brown water, listening to the wind whistling in the trees."And so you played dumb blonde?" Percy asked for the thousandth time, laughter disjointing his voice.

"Yes, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said, also for the thousandth time. "I don't understand why you find it so funny." She said with a frown.  
"I'm not sure it's just... 'That's rather an innuendo don't you think?'" He doubled over laughing.  
Annabeth giggled and drew her Polartec jacket closer around her body, shivering. Percy smiled broadly and tromped towards the boat they were sharing. He stood in the shallows, the water lapping around his ankles.  
"After you m'lady," he said, holding out an arm. Annabeth took it, beaming, and clambered aboard the vessel. "Ever the gentleman, Perseus Jackson."  
Percy bowed, and mimed doffing a hat. Annabeth curtsied as best she could without toppling out of the boat. Her boyfriend leapt like a gazelle over the side of the canoe and into the thwart on front of her. They were both experienced in canoeing, having been at camp one of them for ten years and the other five, incidentally, said person also happened to be a son of Poseidon. Percy and Annabeth rowed out into the centre of the lake; perfect sync, minimal splash. Hence his deep scowl, Dan, cutting through the water on his motor boat, seemed to take it as a personal offence at the demigods being so proficient at the refined art of rowing, and seemed to be in an even worse mood than on previous days. He glared at Annabeth, furious that she had woken him up the last night with her screaming and nightmare that had clawed its way into her slumber.  
 _Oh well, you try living with PTSD, or falling into Hell._  
His eyes were like daggers in her back, but Annabeth could honestly not care less. This was familiar territory; canoeing in a lake with her Seaweed Brain and outshining all the other kids. She was happy.

Before lunch, group four had an arts-and-crafts session, led by a jolly, amiable young woman who nicknamed herself as 'Minerva.' Yes, of course she did. Annabeth cringed mentally, and was also rather offended. She told them that they were to design a model for a structure, anything they wanted, and would later attempt to build it out of the natural activities. Oh wonderful, building infrastructure out of twigs and leaves with this flamboyant teacher. Well, at least it was something Annabeth enjoyed, even if she was used to Architecture using more _appropriate_ materials.

"Your turn to shine Wise girl," Percy muttered to her. She laughed and winked.  
"Wait and see."

Annabeth had taken out her notebook, and was busy studying her idea for her temple to her mother, and figuring out how to make it out of the natural resources provided. She just had to add this owl there and... _Done_. Now she could focus on constructing it. She walked leisurely up to the table and gathered an array of twigs, leaves, pebbles and other odd and end supplied. Joyously, Annabeth set about making the frame. She could use the leaves for the dome, stud them to let in the light, the twigs were the perfect support beams, this pebble looked rather like an owl. All too soon, a shadow appeared behind her, observing her model.

"That's very good," 'Minerva,' said. She picked up the notebook residing behind Annabeth's hand. A shocked silence followed.

"You want to be an architect?" She asked the young girl, intrigued.  
"Yes, I love architecture. That's just my book full of the buildings in going to design, I want to build something permanent like the Parthenon in Greece, or the Pyramids. Someday, I will design something to last millennia, that's my dream. I dunno, I just love architecture and... I'm sorry, am I rambling?"  
'Minerva' laughed. "Only slightly," she said, "but it's alright, I studied architecture you know, it's nice to meet someone with the same passion."  
Annabeth grinned. "Oh, thank the gods, someone who doesn't get bored of this subject. Anytime I try to talk to my boyfriend about this, he starts to laugh at me or draws his clueless expression."  
The woman laughed again, "What's your name?"  
"Annabeth Chase."  
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Annabeth Chase."  
"As yourself Minerva, goddess of wisdom and crafts."  
"You flatter me."

The models were done and laid out on the worktable. As if it were an exhibition, the kids of group four walked leisurely around the table, perusing the artwork. A crowd gathered at the end of one of the tables, admiring a certain temple to Athena. Annabeth couldn't help but flush with pleasure at the praises that filled her ears like music. She was staring at Percy's before her. It was surprisingly good actually. Percy had never shown an interest in architecture, but she guessed after being best friends with a daughter of Athena for so many years, and finally dating her, especially one who showed a particularly passion for the subject, some skill for it was bound to spark. Annabeth grinned at the little model of the cabin at her hands, one of which she had heard of, the one Percy and his Mom had rented sometimes in Montauk.

"Like it?" Said a voice behind her. Annabeth smiled at her boyfriend's voice. "It's great, I didn't expect it to be so good!" She exclaimed.

"Thanks, I guess. After all these with you, some of your tendencies had to rub off right?"

Annabeth smothered a giggle, and laced her fingers through Percy's with a beam. She thought of how fortunate she was that Percy had come on this trip too. If he hadn't, she would be bored out of her mind and every insult would be like a stab in the back. And gods, she had had plenty of those. There was the sound of a shrill whistle, and in unison, the head's of her and her peers snapped up towards the door. Dan stood in the doorway of te room, his sulky expression quieting the students.

"Lunch's in ten minutes, so start to pack up." He said. In the corner of her eye, Annabeth was pleased to see 'Minerva,' glare daggers at the instructor.

"Okay class," She said, then addressed the surly 'Dan,' in doorway, "Just give us five." The class looked at her expectantly.

"Okay, so at the end of the class, I like to round it off by telling everyone how well they worked, if that's the case. So good job class, nice work. Tonight, as I'm sure your _wonderful_ instructor Mr James has told you, you have a disco for all the schools in attendance. That will be in the dance hall at eight thirty, till ten thirty. Now go off to lunch."

The class cheered, some confused as to the news of this disco. Annabeth was caught in the rush of the crowd, as the kids ran to the door, desperate for the freedom and the food to satisfy their empty stomachs. She found Percy in the midst of it, and laughed at his alarmed expression. They began to weave between the dense gathering towards the exit. Lunch... Oh yes, and she had to wash up after it, part of her punishment for punching Gretel, right. That outburst seemed like so long ago. She was almost at the door, when a voice cut through the air.

"Annabeth, can you wait a moment?"

Annabeth hid her groan, and fought through the crowd, back into the room. It was like going against the tide. After a half minute of struggling, she broke free from the it and backed up against the wall, waiting for the last of her cohorts to trickle through the door. Percy materialised besides her panting. This kid could lead two wars, battle giants, survive Tartarus and kill hundreds of monsters, yet combating a crowd left him panting. Go figure. The mortal world was a strange, _strange_ place. 'Minerva,' smiled at her and beckoned Annabeth forwards. She waved Percy out of the door. Was it her imagination, or 'Minerva's eyes had narrowed slightly at Percy? "Annabeth'll see you at lunch, it's fine."

Percy shot Annabeth a questioning glance. Consent. Annabeth smiled weakly at him. "I'll see you outside," she said. Percy nodded slightly, but subtly placed his hand in his pocket, showing the tip of _Anaklusmos_ , his pen-sword. His nod was requited, and Annabeth shifted her hand, to reveal the hilt of her dagger, peeking out of the waistband of her jeans. Percy smiled, squeezed her hand tenderly, and walked out of the room. His girlfriend turned to the teacher and smiled slightly. She twirled a pencil in her hand.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Nothing really, I just realised I never really got to thank you for everything, my daughter."


	11. Chapter 11

To say Annabeth was in shock, would be an understatement. Before her eyes, 'Minerva,' _no, Athena,_ transformed into how Annabeth was used to seeing her. Greek chiton, dark hair pinned up, and stormy grey eyes peering into the depths of her mind. The demigod stumbled backwards, speechless, shock fogging her mind.

"M-mom?" She stuttered, nerves pulsing through her body. Her heart hammered against her chest. She hadn't seen her mother since the battle in Greece, and there hadn't exactly been much time for warm words and thank you's then. Athena smiled at her, and slid into a stool. She gestured for Annabeth to do the same. Apprehensive, Annabeth followed her request, and perched on the chair, knee relentlessly bouncing up and down. The door suddenly opened, and Percy ran in.

"Hey, Wise Girl, I was wondering if-" He trailed off upon seeing the goddess, then groaned. "Seriously? First, demigod high school principals, now teachers who just happen to be goddesses."

"Ah yes, the son of the sea scum." Athena drawled. Annabeth looked at Percy pleadingly, praying to... not Athena, to Poseidon, that her mother wouldn't zap Percy to little pieces. Thankfully, her boyfriend recovered quickly, and feeling Annabeth's glare on him, hastily dropped to his knees, if in acquiescence.

"Lady Athena." He murmured, tripping over his words.

The goddess in question smiled without emotion, in acceptance of his courtesy. "I'll just -" Percy jabbed his fingers towards the exit, sensing that he was not wanted here, and Athena nodded approvingly. "I'll be waiting for you outside Annabeth." The bridge between Poseidon and Athena's children may have been built, but that between the gods had not begun to be constructed yet.

He left them alone, and as he disappeared through the doorway. The room seemed to darken when he left. Percy, her only light had gone, and now she was in the dark. Annabeth turned towards her mom, and tried for a wane smile.

"So... Um...?" She started.

"Well, I just wanted to say thank you for successfully recovering the Athena Parthenos, and of course, our gratitude for you saving Olympus is abundant. For my part, at least. That is why I am here. Also, I decided to check up on my daughter, of whom I had not spoken too for a long time, and who is, I must say, faring very well." Athena proclaimed. Annabeth, for her _own_ part, was rendered speechless and shocked. She stared at her mother, basking in surprise.

"T-Thanks mom, any time. Thanks for not... um, blasting Percy to pieces."

"Well, this has been a lovely meeting with you, my daughter. That temple is very nice, as are your other designs. Now, go to lunch quickly, before I change my minds and destroy your boyfriend."

Annabeth first blinked at the sudden end to their short meeting. Then, recovering from her senses, made haste out of the room. 

Annabeth wiped washing up liquid from her eyes. Never had she concentrated so hard on scrubbing a pot, not even when she and Percy had been ordered by Tantalus to wash up using lava, or the time when Chiron had made her wash up all the crockery after the centaur prom, following a certain incident with Clarisse. Yet this massive pot she was in the process of scrubbing was the largest and stickiest one of her many washing up endeavours. The sink was covered in grime, and though Annabeth dared not look up, she was almost certain the shadowy figure of Dan stood in the doorway, laughing at her struggles, taking pleasure from these hardships. _Sadist._

The meeting with her mother had shaken Annabeth somewhat, and even now, an hour and a half later, her brain was numb.

"Uh, no, you can't come in... this is retribution, her punishment."

Dan's voice cut through the air like a knife, shaking Annabeth from her reverie. She glanced up so quickly that the pain of whiplash flared through her body. But such a pain was quickly replaced by joy when she say who was at the door. Percy was making fruitless attempts to cross into the kitchen, but deterred by Dan, who wore his ever-present scowl. Percy pouted like a baby seal, and her insides melted. Just tiny bit. Just her brain to her feet.  
"Percy!"  
He looked up at her with a broad grin. "Hey, how's the washing up?"  
"Hard." She admitted. Percy looked like he was about to say something, but was cut off by Dan, who pushed him back.  
"Nuh-uh Jackson, go back to your dormitory."  
Annabeth was laughing at the sink, momentarily forgetting the abundance of crockery and pots and pans she had left to wash and dry, and that meeting with her mother. Her Seaweed Brain made one final attempt of crossing the threshold, but Dan casually slid his leg up the door frame to make almost a gateway. Percy tripped over, and landed sprawling in the floor.  
"Leave her alone Jackson, or you can't go to the disco."  
Percy frowned, and drew a frowny face. His girlfriend glanced up at him, and smiled encouragingly.  
"It's alright Percy, I'll meet you by the oak tree in about'-she observed all the plates and pans she still had to do-'an hour."

Annabeth trudged over to the tree, acutely aware of the washing up liquid staining her clothes, on her face, in her hair. Percy was waiting for her, leaning against the tree and humming along to whatever song he was listening to on his iPod. Upon seeing her, his face brightened, and Annabeth fell into his open arms with a smile.

"Don't stain my shirt with washing up liquid Wise Girl, I just got changed," Percy said through a laugh. And gods of Olympus... He wore a simple flannel shirt, hanging open to reveal a tight white T-Shirt, and sported skinny black jeans and black converse. His hair looked like it had been attempted to be combed back, but was only slightly better than usual; just how Annabeth like it.  
"I'm not complaining, but why are you dressed like that?"  
"The disco,"  
"But that's at night."  
"Yeah, well I thought I'd ask you how this looks."  
"It looks amazing."  
"Thank you."  
Annabeth gave him another hug, and sat down heavily on the ground, leaning her back against the tree. Besides her, Percy crouched down, and assumed a lying down position. He began to sing softly to the song blaring into his ears. Annabeth looked at him pleadingly. _Music_?  
Percy sighed, but happily, and unplugged his earphones, and let the music float around them like fog.  
'Miss Jackson, Panic! At The Disco,' pounded through the clearing. It was funny, Annaneth thought. That the song was called 'Miss Jackson.' She smothered a giggle with her hand.  
"Come on Seaweed Brain," she said, tugging at his arm, "We've got Fencing now."

Annabeth heaved her suitcase onto her bed and sighed deeply. The disco was in half an hour, and so far, all Annabeth had done was take a shower. She still needed to choose an outfit, apply a little makeup, brush her hair - she was _not_ looking forwards to that - , and choose some jewellery. Not necessarily in that order. And of course, meet Percy at the oak tree, which seemed to have become their permanent rendezvous. She raked through her small selection of dresses and skirts. And it was a _small_ selection. Desperately, she rummaged through her case, but the only remotely elegant things she had brought was an ugly grey skirt and a long, ankle length red dress, both of which her father had packed for some obscure reason. A blue rumpled dress in the corner of her bag suddenly caught her eye. She hadn't remembered packing it at all, or her father, and, come to think about it, had never seen that dress at all. Yet, it seemed perfect. Smiling to herself, she picked it up and lay it on her bed. It _was_ perfect. A simple, beautiful silk dress of Royal blue colour. Its hem was up to mid-thigh, the skirts rather loose, with folds of fabric overlapping each other, the bodice was tight fitting, strapless, and held above her breast, under her armpits. With a small, nervous smile, Annabeth shrugged it on, and with a new-found confidence in her gait, stalked towards the large mirror on the other side of the room. She admired her reflection, and spun once, the skirts of her dress caught the wind and expanded, flying out gracefully as she turned. Satisfied, Annbeth turned to return to her bed and was met with the stares of the other girls.

"What?"  
"N-nothing, the scars, the dress."  
 _Crap_.  
Annabeth had forgotten about the scars, without words, she spun on her heel and grabbed a discarded bottle of concealer, before making her way to the bathroom. She wasn't angry, but she wasn't going to let the scars prevent her from wearing what she wanted.

There was a hair dryer in the bathroom, and Annabeth made good use of it. Turning it into full power, she let the hot air blast onto her hair. Her curly blonde mane danced like fire. Like fire... With a pang, Annabeth was reminded of Leo. Their late friend who had sacrificed himself to kill Gaea.

Once her hair was dry, Annabeth attacked the comb. She winced and yelped as the brush teased out the tangles. Why did looking good have to mean so much pain? After a very painful battle with her hair, Annabeth picked up the cosmetics case her father had bought her, in the hope that she might use it. Well, it seemed like a good time now. She recalled her friend Silena, daughter of Aphrodite, also late, telling her how to apply each product one time, when Annabeth had been in her cabin, waiting for her to get ready. First, Annabeth put on the concealer, obscuring every limb and extremity that showed scars. Well, she successfully covered the worst of the damage. The ever present souvenirs of Tartarus. Of the hell that almost drove her insane, and the terrors it wrought on her and Percy. Annabeth felt bile rise in her throat, tears scald her eyes. A scream crawled its way up, into her mouth. With so much effort, she almost choked, Annabeth clamped down on it.

 _No_. She was safe here. Tartarus was gone.

With a deep breath, the daughter of Athena picked up the lipstick tub, and tentatively held it to her lips, as if it were a monster, waiting to spring out of the makeup case into a vile, pink, lipstick monstrosity.  
Next came the mascara, a fiddly endeavour, and the eyeshadow, light blue. Her piercing eyes reflected the eyeshadow, giving them a shimmering blue sheen. Once done, Annabeth sighed at her reflection, and exited the bathroom, into the bedroom where the other girls were slipping on champagne dresses and eight inch heels or lathering on layer over layer of foundation. Now came the problem of shoes. The only pairs she had brought were her trainers and combat boots, neither of them went with her dress or were appropriate for a disco. Yet the garment she wore, never had she seen it before, never recalled packing it and yet it was perfect, and had appeared completely out of the blue. Annabeth had a sneaking suspicion she knew were it had come from.

Sitting heavily down on her mattress, Annabeth glanced up at the ceiling.

"Hey, um, Aphrodite," She muttered, low enough so that her roommates, who were busy fawning over Shan's violet dress couldn't hear, "I understand if you have more important things to do, but um, I don't have shoes for the disco and seeing as you're the goddess of love and beauty, and Percy's going to be there, I was wondering if could, you know, supply some shoes."  
No sooner had she said this, a pair of shoes appeared from thin air at her feet. They had a small stills to heel, three inches, and resembled gladiator sandals, blue straps fastened at the ankle and the toes. Annabeth beamed as she put them on. They were the perfect fit and extremely comfortable. She glanced up at the ceiling again.  
"Thanks," she whispered. Standing up, Annabeth looked towards the other girls.  
"So, who's ready to go?"  
The others just gaped.

Percy was staring. As she walked towards the tree where her boyfriend waited for her, she didn't fail to notice the way he froze and the way his jaw hit the ground hit the ground. It was kind of hard to miss. She neared him and shut his mouth, then pressed a kiss to it.

"You've upped the stakes Wise Girl," he muttered once he had regained his ability to speak. Annabeth curtsied gracefully, "Thank you good sir, you don't look bad yourself."  
Percy bowed deeply, and held out his arm to her. She took it, and they imagined they were different people in different eras. Back, back, back to a time when nothing mattered, and the world was black and white and the ladies danced in swaths of velvet and the gentlemen bowed and took their hand and they could spin, spin, spin away and forget themselves and the curses that came with the gods were so far away and hell was something surreal and out of touch that only came with death. And until they reached the doors of the complex they could pretend.

Feet back on the ground, Percy pushed open the doors of the dance hall. They swung outwards, and hit the walls on either side with a resounding that echoed around the room like a bell. They were early, but even so, a few of the kids in vicinity, who had got there early also, jumped startled, and glowered murderously at their peers who had just arrived. Percy smiled nonchalantly and sashayed over to the refreshments table, where a few members of staff were busy laying out platters of cake and other sweet delicacies. Smiling, Annabeth followed him on light footsteps. He gave a start when she slipped an arm around his shoulders and almost spilt his glass of Coke. Was he seriously already on the sodas? Yes, yes he was.

The rest of the students had started to filter in through the doors into the hall, all clothed in mini dresses, tops with low neck lines (The girls) or tight tank tops and even tighter skinny jeans (The boys). Some took Percy's example and made a bee-line for the snacks, whilst a few waltzed over to the DJ to request music and others just mingled in with the crowd. The lighting and decoration was good, Annabeth had to admit, even if she had seen Dan amongst the crowd setting up the hall. A disco light was hung on the ceiling, multicoloured lights flashing around the room in a crazy spectrum of multicolours, as if Iris had visited the place. It was thankful that no student here suffered from epileptic fits, Annabeth thought. Despite the lighting, the room was darkened effectively, so that one could see their cohorts but not the other side of the rooms. It gave the place an amazing atmosphere, even with the cheesy ribbons and bunting that adorned the mirror on the walls. All around, kids were laughing and exchanging conversations, some were in dancing though the music had not yet started. Well, not for a few minutes. Finally, the last of their company and teachers crowded in through the doors, sentries were placed by the doors and with an almost apprehensive nod from one of the Goode teachers, the music cranked up and the world became alive.

Annabeth giggled almost deliriously, drowning and spinning and losing herself in the music, with giddiness crashing over her and elation flooding through her like a wave. Vaguely, she was aware of Percy besides her, clasping her hand, dancing and laughing and moving besides her in sync. They were wrapped up in the lyrics and the instruments and the joy as if it were a blanket, and dimly, Annabeth realised that dancing and fighting were not so different. From the speakers over head played some Fall Out Boy, its name of which Annabeth had lost somewhere with her mind when the music had started. Images flashed around her, distorting reality so that Annabeth was no longer certain what was here and what was not, what was the swirling its if colours engulfing her and what wasn't. Did Percy really have angel wings? Did Shan really have devil horns? Most likely. She smiled maniacally, letting the song transport her to a times Camp Half-Blood: Watching the fireworks with Percy, sitting with Percy and watching the sunset into the late hours of the night before realising such a thing as Harpies existed, Campfire sing alongs with Percy. Happy times she could have back in a month, when she visited the camp for vacation. The song stopped, and Annabeth hurtled towards the ground again. But she did not mind. 

Several tracks later, Annabeth and Percy had mastered the art of not quite losing themselves, and could successfully manage a song without being rendered schizophrenic. Annabeth leant against the refreshments table, devouring a slice of Victoria Sponge and chugging a glass of Sprite. She was taking a break from the dancing and the heat of the dance floor, sweating and hot and happy. Besides her, Percy, halfway through his fifth slice of cake, was animatedly was telling her a funny anecdote about the old man at Barnes and Noble (Wow, Percy had been in a bookshop?), when he had been chased in there by a small pack of hellhounds (Oh. That made more sense). Annabeth laughed loudly, especially when he pulled funny voices and facial expressions. Around them kids were dancing. Some of their dancing was a little overdrawn, but many were particularly adept at moving their bodies in time to the music. Something Annabeth wished she were a small bit more capable at. The current song ended, and Percy squeezed her hand.

"Another song?"

"Sure, coming."

Annabeth poured some water into her hands, and washed her face and neck. Instantaneously, she felt refreshed.

"Yeah, I'm ready now." She muttered. Percy led her onto the dance floor, where Wildest Dreams, Taylor Swift was playing. Not her favourite song, but never mind. Annabeth scanned the room nervously, trying to gather an idea of how to dance to this song. Like a game of follow the leader, she began to copy what the others were doing, drinking int he dance moves she needed to keep afloat on the music. Involuntarily, her forehead creased into a frown as she swayed to the music, Percy right alongside herself, failing miserably at the dancing part but not at the happy part. Despite their poor dancing skills, neither of their mood dampened, and the cheesy smiles stayed plastered on their faces. They danced like one, as if they were one person, one soul, one heart that never stopped beating. Percy wove through the crowds, towards a clique huddled in the corner, dragging Annabeth behind him.

"Yo, guys!" He shouted over the bloodthirsty roar of the music. The group looked up, their heads snapping up so fast Annabeth could almost feel the whiplash herself.

"Yeah, Perce?" One asked, a tall dark skinned guy with bangs.

"Why aren't you dancing?"

"Heck man, why _are_ you dancing?"

"It's fun!"

Annabeth nudged Percy nervously. "Who are these?" She murmured privately. "Just some classmates," Percy answered with a smile. He squeezed her shoulder supportively, sensing her discomfort. "It's okay, these guys are annoying but believe me, they don't bite."

"Are you sure, because so far we've had a principal who turned into a sea monster and an instructor who isn't much better," she whispered back. Percy laughed loudly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Gods, it was so annoying when he did that, it reminded her that after all these years of competition, he was finally taller and would most likely stay that way. They had this as an ongoing joke, where Percy would purposefully kiss her forehead to irk her. Not out of malice of course, just as a joke. Annabeth stamped on his foot, but Percy simply laughed and scooped her up into an embrace. He kissed her forehead _again_.

"I swear to gods Seaweed Brain next time you do that I'll judo-" She was cut off by his lips meeting hers. Though annoyed, Annabeth sighed and leant into his kiss, letting his warmth take hers. When they broke apart, Percy smiled at her. "You were saying?" He asked. Annabeth rolled her eyes and punched him on the arm. They turned to look at the kids before them. "So, you guys wanna dance or something?"

The kid with bangs looked at the girl besides him and with his eyes, asked a question. Then he turned to look at his bothersome peer, Perseus Jackson. "Fine," he said, gripping the hand of the girl at his side, "One dance." Percy grinned. "I knew I could convince you to not be so boring."

"Wise Girl," Percy complained, "I'm hot."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Oh, shut up."

Annabeth poked her tongue out at him childishly. They danced sweltering amidst a dense crowd made up of about one-hundred and fifty kids from four or five different schools, all whooping and hollering and dancing. The air had a musty, thick stench of body odour and the intoxicating smell of too sweet food. "Do you want some fresh air?" Percy asked.

"But it's cold and raining." Annabeth complained. Percy glanced at her sidelong and smiled his gorgeous trouble maker smile. "I promise you won't get wet."  
"Okay, fine." Annabeth allowed herself to be lead through the throng. They arrived at the doors and made to go through them, but were deterred by the sentries at the door. "Come on!" Percy protested, "We just want to get out!"

One of the sentries looked down on them and snorted. "Yeah right, to make out in the bushes?"

Percy blushed vigorously and assumed an angry expression. "Im fairly certain you can't talk to-"

Annabeth suddenly doubled over and started to retch furiously. "P-please miss," She stuttered, "I'm going'-she retched again-'I'm going to throw up." The teacher at the door looked alarmed, and mildly disgusted, as if Annabeth might puke all over her. "S-sure, come right through," She stuttered, "Perhaps it's the cake."

"Thanks miss, thanks." Annabeth ran out, clasping her stomach, followed by Percy who was feigning worry. Once they had skidded past the corner of the corridor, they bent over laughing. "That," Percy gasped, "Was a stroke of genius!" Annabeth smiled, and tossed her hair, "I thought you would've got used to it by now. You know, with me kicking your butt for what, five years now?"

Cautious of any other teachers on the move, Percy and Annabeth looked up and made towards the back doors at the end of the hall. The cool air hit them like a blow. Biting, sharp, angry. But refreshing. With childish delight, Annabeth ran whooping into the rain, Percy right behind her.

"I thought you didn't wanna get wet?"  
"Yeah, well..."  
Annabeth grinned at him broadly, then, wordlessly, pressed a kiss to his lips. It was even better than dancing. It was losing oneself in another until Percy became the only thing in the world. It was losing oneself in another until all that mattered was him and Annabeth and clearing the space between them. Above them, around them pulsated the steady, incessant beat of the music like a large heart. Empowering them. Annabeth's heart melted to her feet as if it were wax, her eyelids shutting out the real world and every thing save for the lips on hers and the boy in her arms. They flew and flew, soaring high above the world and all it stands for, clinging to each other as if for dear life. In the back of Annabeth's eyelids seared an image. Clouds and clouds as she and Percy flew and each one of them had a silver lining.

When the space between them was finally empty again, they stared at each other in shock, green matching grey, black matching blonde. For a while, they just stared and stared, drinking in the comforting sight of each other and the happiness each one supplied. Then the beat stopped and another slower beat started from somewhere in the complex.

' _When your legs don't work like they used to before_ '

Percy blinked, shaking himself from his stupor.  
"Come on Wise Girl, let's dance."  
Annabeth nodded mutely and gently placed a hand in his. She had a faint recollection, another one, of watching the music video to 'Thinking Out Loud," with Piper one time. Many times in that sleepover in fact. They had been imagining they were getting married to their respective boyfriends, and were planning what song to play at the ceremony. As as joke of course, but still, Annabeth decided not to tell Percy.

Though they did not follow the music video, which was _extremely_ strange and difficult, as claimed by Percy. they began to move together, waltzing around each other with the ease of one well practiced. Their footsteps were light as they spun and danced and twirled around each other with movement freight with grace. It was as though they had been dancing all their lives, as though they had been breathing and living on these steps since birth was the way they moved. The dance was slow, like a sea gentle breeze delicately batting the shore, whistling in the trees. At one point, Annabeth executed a perfect spin into Percy's arms, picking up the perfect momentum and style. At another, Percy lifted her high into the air with so much strength he may have been Heracles. Neither of them was sure when, the routine knitted together into one quilt of soft, beautiful material. The music led them on, guiding them through twirls and leaps and waltzes. And then, their lips came together and they danced as such. Many times they had danced, but never like this. Never beneath the moon and the rain and the stars. Never so close they could hear the other's heartbeat. Never dancing with the swiftness of birds and the agility of gazelles. After minutes. Minutes that stretched into hours or days or years, the song dimmed to a stop. Percy and Annabeth broke apart staring at each other and gasping for the second time that night. Annabeth took a gulp of much needed air and exhaled slowly. The rain washed her face ran down her nose. Another slow song was starting up in the foggy haze beyond her elation. A couple's dance, she thought. Not that she was inclined to go. Not when she could be here all alone with Percy. Annabeth glanced askance at her arms, and saw with a start that the concealer had run. Well, of course it had, but in the heat of the moment she had forgotten. But she wasn't inclined to care about _that_ either.

"Thanks Aphrodite." She murmured.

"Huh?" Percy frowned, "what did you say?"  
"Nothing."  
And somewhere, up above them in the splendour of Olympus, Annabeth was sure she could almost hear the goddess of love laughing in glee.


	12. Chapter 12

Annabeth woke up to sunlight streaming in through the window, shadows playing on the ivory wall before her, chasing each other in intricate patterns. She glanced at the clock ticking steadily on the wall. Seven thirty am. In the beds astride her, the other girls snored peacefully, held in the firm grasp of their slumber and the sanctuary it offered. Annabeth sighed wistfully. If only her sleep provided such comfort. Last night's disco had finished late, at midnight, and the students had retired to bed immediately, each kid going out like a lamp. Well, except for her. For hours, she had lain in bed, too terrified to close her eyes for the fear of her terror-inducing nightmares. And even when the exhaustion became over bearing and she finally succumbed to the magic of sleep, she was racked awake many times by nightmares. By the very incarnations of demons. Or so they had seemed at the time, when she had bolted awake and padded quickly over to bathroom, where she had stuffed masses of tissue into her mouth to block the relentless sobbing, and then she had thrown up. Again and again into the toilet bowl, the horrors of her nightmares creeping up around the darkest, most hidden corners of her mind like cancer as she choked back the screams for Percy. In total, she must have been granted only an hour of sleep. Now, in he blissful morning with the late cries of the dawn chorus softly chorusing in her ears, such monstrosities and the previous sleepless night seemed faraway and out of touch, belonging in a different land.

With a deep, deep sigh, Annabeth slipped out of her bed and quietly opened her wardrobe. Silent as a mouse, she pulled out a pair of tracksuit bottoms, a tank top and trainers and pulled them on quickly, before creeping out of the dormitory. As she walked down the corridor, phantoms of her nightmares dancing in the shadows, she thought of the disco and of her time with Percy. Of the heat of it all. The drunk elated feeling the music had given her, the dancing in the rain, the kiss, the passionate flame they had shared beneath the moonlight and the stars. Annabeth stepped out of the main door and into the cool morning breeze. Shivering, she hugged her arms to her chest and took another step into the sunlit clearing. One step in the dew-ridden grass and Annabeth began to wish she hadn't worn breathable Nikes, rather her waterproof combat boots. The dew seeped into her sneakers like a very cold, very muddy foot bath. With a squelch accompanying each step, Annabeth made her way towards towards she and Percy's oak tree, swaying slightly, courtesy of fatigue from an ill spent night. Well, the night itself had been great, just the sleeping part had been when misery and panic has steeped. Yawning, she reached the tree placed her hands firmly around the lowest branch, and began to climb. She shimmied up the tree in no time, and was soon perched on one of the top most branches, peering down at the world around her. It was strange, she thought. How much power one had up here, where they could oversee the whole world. She thought that, for once, she understood the gods.

A sudden creak made her look down, startled. A familiar mop of black hair was slowly making its way up the tree towards her.

"Percy?"

Percy jumped, and was saved from a very long, very hard fall sole by his reflexes, which forced him to latch onto the nearest branch, leaving him dangling by his hands, with his feet fifty metres up in the air. He smiled sheepishly and unconcerned, pulling himself back up to a position of relative safety. He grinned up at her.

"Morning Wise Girl, same idea?"

"Seems so."

Percy landed heavily on the branch besides her. His face was wan and haggard, dark bags ringing his sea green eyes. Someone else with a sleepless night. He gave a large yawn and leant against the trunk, eyes closed. "Sleep well?" He asked. Annabeth shuddered, and replied "Not at all. Nightmares." Percy smiled sympathetically. Most demigods had nightmares. Such nightmares that made you toss and turn in bed and wake up in a pool of cold swear. Demigod nightmares after Tartarus were such that you didn't toss and turn, you thrashed and screamed and shouted for your boyfriend in the night, and when you were ripped awake from your sufferment, you often ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach and to feel the hot tears burning their way down your cheeks and to feel the tissue in your mouth to stifle the incessant sobs. And it was these nightmares. These terrors and ordeals that Percy and Annabeth shared every night they suffered alone.

There was a sudden gust of wind rushing around them. The branch they sat on rocked back and forth, threatening to throw them off to the ground far below. Despite the danger, Annabeth began to laugh, enjoying the feel of risk taking and adrenalin. Her hair flew around her in the likeness of a curtain, obscuring her vision, her loose clothing flapping around her body. Percy grinned as well, letting the gale tousle his beautiful raven hair. He took his hands off the branch, and got to his feet, standing on the branch and laughing maniacally, Annabeth right alongside him, their balance never faltering. They whooped to the sky, forgetting the despair of the night and the empty voids of their nightmares. This was daytime. They were safe, or as safe as they could be up in a tree. The haunting dreams were gone, dissipated into the night, not to return for another day. Annabeth felt a smile play on her lips.

They climbed down after, both with happiness flooding through their veins, warming their bones. Percy jumped down onto the grass with a smile plastered on his face and offered Annabeth a hand as she came down. She gave him a death glare. Which was good. Normal Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth's stomach gave a deep groan, and she suddenly realised just how hungry she was. "Breakfast, Seaweed Brain?"

"I always want breakfast."

"Good." Annabeth tugged his arm and led him towards the mess hall, licking her lips in anticipation of the pancake she would devour. They pushed open the double doors into the cafeteria and slipped inside joyously. Tired, they waddled over to the long queue awaiting their breakfast and positioned themselves at the back, arms roped around each other, possibly as a sign of affection, possibly to keep the other upright. At the front of the queue, such was their fatigue that Percy deliriously ordered a Nutella and cucumber pizza with Pimm's and Annabeth smiled sluggishly and calmly asked for a shot of vodka and french toast. She hated french toast. The cook took one look at the pair of them, found their sleepless expressions, looked their clothes up and down as if checking how impermeable it was, sighed slightly and before each either the exhausted Percy and Annabeth could process what they were doing, plunged his hands into a bucket of ice and tired its contents over them. The students gaped, wide-eyed, but Percy shook the guy's hand, said that you and waltzed off.

Annabeth was indeed very much alert after her encounter with the ice. She wasn't very wet, the ice had mostly just glanced off her, but the cold had given her such a shock all exhaustion had been lifted away. She sat at the small table with Percy, digging into a neatly cut pancake, both laughing at the events of the breakfast lining and ignoring the curious glances in their direction. Percy was eating a tasty looking bacon sandwich and drinking orange juice. They were just giggling and smiling and beaming, talking and just enjoying each other's company. Oh, and kissing. Such a thing they were doing when a voice cut through the babble and shouts of the other students from the other side of the room.

"Miss Chase? Mr Jackson?"

The named students broke apart hastily and looked up sharply and confused. They shared a puzzled look, and heaved themselves up. Percy and Annabeth stumbled across the tessellated floor, turning their gaze on the childish images of suns and smiling children on the ground rather than the stares and of their peers as they passed through the hall. They ignored the snickers that followed behind them like ghosts. At the entrance to the cafeteria stood Mr Alfonso, who smiled warmly at them and Dan who, of course, scowled so deeply it looked like his forehead was melting. Percy smiled tentatively. "So... What's this about?" He asked. Dan's scowled even deeper, if that were possible. "Mr Alfonso here," He gestured to said principal, "Has come up with a little arrangement for how the pair of you will spend the next two nights. I did not agree to any of this, please bear that in mind."

Annabeth looked worried. "Um, what arrangement?"

"Come, we'll discuss this in my office."

The four of them sat in Dan's office nervously. "So.. we, I, have come up with a little solution." He began. "So, we were told by your roommates that both of you suffer particularly bad nightmares, can't imagine why, but anyway, a little bird also told us that these nightmares cease when you are together, so-"

"-How adorable." Drawled the familiar voice of Dan, freight with contempt. Annabeth glared at him, feeling a blush creep around her neck and cheek. Damned instructor. She hated him. Mr Alfonso shot Dan a pointed look.

"As I was saying, I have decided that for the next two nights, you are allowed to sleep together in the room besides mine." He said with finality and a little smile. Percy however, choked.

"Say what sir?" He demanded, scarlet in the face. Mr Alfonso looked confused and was about to say something, when Dan interceded.

"Sorry Mr Alfonso." Their instructor said in his monotone, "I'm afraid the boy simply mistook your wording. It was a rather an innuendo. Your Principal does not mean what you thought he meant, I'm sorry, he simply means that you sleep in the room you slept in last time, both of you. Avoid nightmares. I apologise for it having two separate beds"

Percy jumped up looking conflicted between saying thank you and retaliating to Dan's latter statement. Before he had the chance to react, his girlfriend, who was trying incredibly hard not to burst out laughing at the ludicrousness of such innuendo and the density of Percy, pulled him into his seat, and stamped on his foot to silence him. She clambered to her feet and beamed at Mr Alfonso, who was also suppressing a bout of giggles.

"Thank you very much sir, your concern for us is touching."

"Believe me Miss Chase, the only reason this is going ahead is not because of your sleep, even if the cook had to chuck ice on you to wake you up after you ordered vodka, but because not your roommates or any in the neighbouring rooms could sleep with your screaming." Dan droned, leaning back against his chair lazily. Annabeth looked at him and twitched her lip up into a rueful smile.

"Your consideration and thoughtfulness is admirable Mr James, I must confess," She hissed, trenchancy and scorn dripping from her lips.

"Well, thank you very much Miss Chase, it is my greatest asset I think you will find."

"I already found it out kind sir."

In Annabeth's peripheral vision, Mr Alfonso and Percy watched the altercation like a tennis match with blatant amusement on their faces. Annabeth and Dan glared at each other in fury, her eyes like a graveyard, his like a whirlpool. Admittedly, the sight was probably terrifying for her boyfriend and principal.

"Annabeth." Percy muttered, only to be ignored. He was on the edge of his seat, intently staring at the angry pair. "Wise Girl, sit down." This time, she responded, and piqued, resumed her composure. She sat down on her seat with an almighty thump as her hands slammed down on the mahogany tabletop. The group jumped in surprise.

"Well," Mr Aldonso deadpanned, "I suppose you should run along now and enjoy the cross-country that awaits you, led by Dan." Dan groaned blatantly, and slid out of his chair. He turned to face them i the doorframe.

"Well, you coming to enjoy this torture?"

Annabeth couldn't help but grin despite herself.


	13. Chapter 13

Annabeth was sweating profusely. As it turned out, Mr Alfonso had not been joking about the run they were subjected to and, as she ran ahead of the entire group, Annabeth felt sticky liquid drip down her back. She grimaced. Far behind her, at least a mile away, ran the rest of the group four, Percy, who was 'slower than a nymph in tree form,' quote unquote Mr D, included. They trudged up the slope at the pace of turtles, or so it seemed to her: lithe, fast and strong already at the crest of the hill. Annabeth paused a moment to take a swig of her canteen and admire the view around her. The dramatic crags, the large, luscious forests dotting the landscape, the gathering of clouds in the distance. She had always appreciated beautiful scenery, but only after Tartarus had she truly began to admire each enchanting view she came across, treasuring each sacred sight and rejoicing in the fact of it not being the barren, bleakness of the eternal pit of damnation. A zephyr suddenly picked up around her, working its way into her loose fitting clothing and like a cold shower on a hot day, refreshing and cool. Annabeth let a grin play on her mouth. She turned and began to descend the hill, quick as a greyhound, feet crunching the array of dry leaves and twigs underfoot. The momentum increased and, like a bullet train, Annabeth sprinted down the hillside, whooping like a primal animal.

By the time the group rendezvoused at the entrance of the complex for their next activity, it had began to rain. Thick drops of water striking the ground like teardrops, loudly pattering against the windows in a steady, sleepy beat. Annabeth felt her eyelids grow heavy, exhaustion wearing down on them, the hypnotic drumming of the rain making fatigue weigh down on her. Tiredness flooding through her, she leant into Percy, feeling his steady heartbeat pulsing against his rib cage. Dan waltzed up to the doors and indicated for the group to follow. Next activity was dance. Lucky them.

The group crowded into the dance hall, still littered with paper plates and ribbons on the floor from last night's disco. In her peripheral vision, Dan stalked over to the stereo with a smug smile, as if he were about to kill a party of teenagers with some oldie country music. He signalled for the students to space out in orderly files, ready for the warm up. Out of the overhead speakers a song - indeed a vile country monstrosity of which Annabeth didn't know its name - cranked up and, simultaneously, the whole group erupted in a groan.

Annabeth was glad for the lunch before her. The dance lesson had been a nightmare, catchy, infectious and horrible music filling her and her cohort's ears. By Dan, of whom had enjoyed himself very much, they had been forced to move along to the music, and each motif they performed was slow and sluggish. Annabeth and Percy had miraculously ended up together for the group work part, and they had spent their time standing mutely in the corner, assessing their peers as they danced to the ridiculous track blaring overhead and feigning ignorance to the dirty looks Dan shot them across the hall. In retrospect, the experience was rather amusing. And so now, Annabeth was glad for Percy at her side, tearing into his meal like a wolf, and the spaghetti on the table before her. She picked up the fork and began to shovel daintily twirled pasta into her mouth. _Gods_ , she was hungry. She attacked the food as if she were attacking a monster: viciously and ruthless. Except perhaps less tactfully. Once her plate was scraped clean, she leaned back lazily in her chair and smiled, feeling relaxation flood through her. Percy had finished his hamburger and leaned back too, lacing his fingers in her's. Fatigue was pounding through Annabeth's veins, making her drowsy and unable to think straight. Vaguely, she registered Percy heave himself up and head out of the door. The restroom perhaps? Exhaustion was weighing her down, if only she could sleep... Sleep... Sleep...

 _Annabeth was surrounded. She was back at the Doors of Death in Tartarus, around her stood many monsters, laughing, taunting, jeering. She turned slowly, bile rising in her throat, her stomach in knots, blood pounding in her head. If only she could curl up on the spot and sob and clasp her hands to her ears and block out the relentless shouting._

 _'Murderer,"the monsters shouted "Weak. Coward. Hypocrite."_  
 _"No!" Annabeth shouted, "No! It's not true."_  
 _Another voice joined the chorus, "But ah, my little mortal, are you sure?"_  
 _The voice was cold. So ice cold it made Annabeth's insides freeze over yet so hot her blood boiled as if it were over a fire. A chill like a thousand spiders crawled up her back. Nervously, Annabeth shifted her weight around to meet the voice. Looming over her was... Tartarus. The incarnation of Tartarus. Annabeth froze stiff, unable to move, the feeling of deja vu washing over her, choking her. She gasped violently, fear pummelling through her body, desperate to get out. Annabeth clamped back on the scream building up in her throat._  
No _. She refused to scream._  
 _Weaponless, Annabeth turned to the god. She looked him in the face and in her peripheral vision, thought she saw Thanatos clasp her hand. Annabeth braced herself as he drew nearer and nearer and helpless, she was pulled into the swirling, empty vortex his face was. It was like a black hole, she was pulled towards it and could not fight the force, she tried to free herself from its iron clutches but to no avail and then, then when Annabeth finally reached his face and the vortex was all around her, time and space_ did _seem to switch. She was moving in slow motion, like swimming through honey. Annabeth closed her eyes and prayed. And this time she did not pray to her mother. She prayed to Hades._

Annabeth cried out. She tilted out of her chair and toppled sideways, the floor swimming towards her. With a sickening crash, she hit it. Shaking and choking back sobs, Annabeth lay dazed on the ground, black spots peppering her vision, hazy figures crowding around her, a babble of voices much like those of the monsters floating around her ears in meaningless formations.

"What happened?" A disembodied, concerned voice inquired.

"I'm not sure, she just screamed and collapsed."Another disembodied voice uttered, though his words seemed far away.

"Did she have another nightmare?"

"Most likely."

Annabeth blinked furiously, attempting to clear her blurry vision, her eyes were dimming at the corner. Perhaps she had hit her head too hard and was going blind? A sob clawed its ways up her throat, tearing at her skin, she could almost feel the gashes it would leave. She closed her eyes and saw her nightmare embedded still on eyelids, on her tongue, she tasted an unsavoury whimper. Moaning in fear, she wrenched her eyes open again. Her vision was bruising black, why...? Why...? _Why...?_ Discomposure filled her mind, her heart, her soul. She may have been here, in the mortal world yet in this state, she could've still been in Tartarus.

"Annabeth!" A figure, a familiar tall figure with raven black hair and sea green eyes pushed furiously through the grounds and dropped to his knees besides her, his voice coloured with thick fear and panic. He shook her thoroughly, and though it may have just been a trick of the Mist or some crazy god, through the haziness of her mind, Annabeth thought she felt a drop of water land on her hand. Then another. _Oh gods_ , Percy was crying? 'Wise Girl? Wise Girl are you all right, answer me, please!" He shook her again, and Annabeth was able to utter a disjointed groan. Percy hugged her tight to his chest, he rocked her trembling body back and forth, holding her against him, his tears soaking her hair. He propped her up against the wall and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Faintly, Annabeth took this all in. That he had faced so many monsters, fought so many battles, crawled through hell itself and yet, he had never reacted so badly, then, when it came to something as simple, as mundane as her almost fainting, he was almost destroyed. It was remarkable, she thought.

Suddenly, Annabeth's vision cleared and the world around her came sharply into focus. She gasped, and clutched at her stomach, feeling the bile rise again in her throat, as if she was going to puke. No, she could not throw up here. Annabeth staggered to her feet only to fall to the ground again, her knees giving way beneath her just as a herd of teachers ploughed through the crowds and towards her. The medical team reached her, and forced her still. A cold cloth was draped over her forehead, Annabeth's jumper pulled off of her and padded beneath her to make a sort of pillow and a window was opened. Mr Alfonso crouched before her and met his eyes with her's.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

"I almost blacked out, but I'm okay. I'm fine."

Annabeth got back on her feet as if to prove it, and blundered down the hall. She made it a few feet before feeling nausea crash over her. She stumbled and would've face planted the floor, if not for Percy who had been shadowing her and propped her upright and into a chair. He studied the back of her head thoroughly for a few minutes, then looked up and addressed the assembly.

"It's alright," He announced, "Just hit hit her head quite badly. She'll be alright in a moment."

Annabeth stared, embarrassed, down at her feet. This wasn't like her, not at all. She started up, but Percy gently pushed her back into her seat. He turned towards her and smiled wryly. "Just sit still a few minutes, it'll pass soon enough." Annabeth gritted her teeth in frustration. "I know Seaweed Brain," She hissed, "This isn't exactly the first time I've hit my head." Percy rolled his eyes at her. He crouched down, and pressed a hard kiss to her lips, apparently forgetting they had an audience. They were granted three seconds.

"Alright give her some air, she just keeled over!" Somebody broke in. Reluctantly, Percy got to his feet and smiled nonchalantly at the crowd. "She didn't quite faint dude, but yeah, okay, I'll give her some space." He backed up a few metres and plonked himself down on the neighbouring table. Percy turned to the kids and teachers who were still staring and looked a little confused. "Um, yeah guys, you can go now, back to your knitting." He waved them off, but the teachers stayed rooted to their spots.

"Yeah, sorry kid, but Miss Chase has to go to medical."

Annabeth sighed deeply. She was accustomed to these minor bumps, she didn't _need_ medical attention. On the table across from her, Percy looked as if he wished he had Piper's charmspeak.

"Oh, come on," He protested, "She didn't even black out, just, you know, collapsed." He looked helplessly at Mr Alfonso, who just shrugged and said, "I'm trained in first aid, I can give you a quick check up, Mr Jackson, help her up, come with me to medical."

"Sir, I really don't think-" Annabeth started to say, but was cut off by her principal's warning look. Percy held out his arm to her and reluctantly, she took it and draped an arm around his shoulders, still feeling some of the lingering effects of her fall. In hindsight, the whole palaver from her collapsing to Percy as good as carrying her as they walked out of the room was peculiar and a little melodramatic.


	14. Chapter 14

Blinking up at the ceiling lights, Annabeth was confused as to where she was. The first thing she realised was that as far as her vision allowed her to see, she was in a sterile white room with fluorescent lights shining brightly overhead. The second thing was that painful pins and needles were stabbing her way up her left arm. She winced in pain, and turned her head, aching and sore, to the side. Percy lay crashed out on an armchair besides the bed she found herself on, his fingers lacing her outstretched arms. That must've been the cause of the pins and needles, as for the room...? Confusion chased its way around Annabeth's ever-working mind. She slid up into a sitting position, hand still through Percy's, and glanced about herself. She appeared to be in a small, two bed white room which played host to one sink, two basins, two armchairs residing besides their respective beds and a storage cupboard. The previous day suddenly worked its way into her memory and replaced all confusion. Ah yes, she was in this dingy room the staff had had the nerve to call 'Medical,' following her nightmare, her almost blacking out and a very long talk with Percy and Mr Alfonso about the endeavours of her dream. Annabeth shuddered. The only reason she was in the sick bay at all was because Mr Alfonso had ordered her to, ignoring all her protests and reminders of the worse injuries she had born and managed fine herself. The broken ankle beneath Rome on her quest for her mother, as an example. She placed a tentative hand to the back of her head where she had hit it and was shocked to find a bump the size of a small apple. How she had banged her head so hard, Zeus knew.

There was a stirring in the chair besides her. Annabeth looked over to find Percy, eyes open and alert, roving the room as if trying to muster an impression of where they were.

"Hey, Seaweed Brain, sleep well?"  
Percy jumped in surprise, unobservant enough not to have seen his girlfriend sitting up before his very eyes a moment later. He smiled broadly at her and rubbed his neck.  
"Slept alright, stiff neck though. Where are we?"  
"Medical."  
"How?"  
"Mr Alfonso said."  
As if on cue, the door of the room swung open and said teachers strolled in, hands in loose track suits, thinning hair stuck up at all ends rather artfully.  
He smiled brightly at them.  
"'Morning, you're both awake? Good, how are you feeling Miss Chase?"  
Annabeth returned his smiled. "Good morning sir, my head hurts a bit but I'm alright."  
"Why don't you go and get dressed, then grab a bite to eat and see how you feel then."  
Annaneth shrugged. "I was going to do that anyway," she said. She disentangled her fingers from Percy's and slid out of bed, baking still in her tracksuits and yesterday's tank top. Yawning, she turned to Percy.  
"You coming too?"

The sick bay was far from Annabeth's dorm. They traipsed to the other side of the compound in a comfortable silence, their hands linked, swinging between them in a relaxed fashion. Percy whistled as they walked, and it took Annabeth a moment to realise it was 'You Are My Sunshine' ( **A/N: I'm not sure if I got the name of the song right, buts it's the one like 'you are my sunshine, my lovely sunshine blah blah blah etc. If its wrong and you know the name, could you please just tell me in the comments, thx :).).** She started to sing quietly along to the words as he whistled.

"You are my sunshine, my lovely sunshine, you make me happy when I am down." She sang softly, not caring that her singing voice wasn't exactly great.  
"You are my sunshine, my lovely sunshine. Please don't take my sunshine away." Percy finished, his voice deep and beautiful, entrancing like that of a siren. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she squeezes him back tenderly, glad for his warmth at her side.

They stepped out through the back entrance and began to pioneer the shortcut they had discovered the other day. Annabeth tromped through the brambles, whacking at the dead plants on either side with a long, discarded branch.  
"So Seaweed Brain, back too school tomorrow."  
"I won't be able to see you until winter vacation." Percy grumbled forlornly. He crushed a dead leaf beneath his foot.  
"I know, but it's only a month and we can Iris Message everyday right?"  
"I hate boarding school."  
"Touché."  
They continued in silence down the path, wallowing in the melancholy prospect of the spelling tests and trig papers that awaited them.

Eventually, Annabeth pulled on Percy's arm, tugging him towards the main entrance. They stumbled up the stairs and along the narrow expanse of corridors. Finally, they halted before Annabeth's dorm. Percy bowed and she curtsied gracefully.

"Thank you good sir, I shall greet you for luncheon in the drawing room."

"It shall be breakfast my dear lady, but see me there you will."  
Then, forgetting the courteous ideals they were assuming, they surged forwards into a fiery embrace. And a deep kiss that invoked passion and love and emotions tethering them together like a rope. Like manacles and the key had been thrown away.

Eventually, they broke apart hastily at hearing the doorknob turn on Annabeth's door. They cleared the space between them just in time for the door to swing open to reveal a scowling Shan. She saw Percy and Annabeth standing there with nonchalant expressions and glowered at the pair.

"Something wrong, Shan?" Annabeth asked sweetly.  
"Where were you all night?" Shan demanded angrily.  
"Medical, seeing as I sorta almost blacked out. Mr Alfonso can vouch for that if you don't believe me. Besides, I'm not gonna be sleeping here the last night anyway. Why d'you ask? Miss me?"  
"Ha! You wish." Shan pushed through the couple and started down the stairs, "You and your boyfriend had better hurry to breakfast or the food might be gone. And _no one_ would want that to happen now, would they?" Sarcasm dripping from her voice like blood  
Annabeth stuck up her middle finger at the empty landing.


	15. Chapter 15

They would be leaving tomorrow, Annabeth thought as she opened her suitcase with a bang. She would return back to her high school dorm and the life of tiresome spelling quizzes and acing maths tests. Without Percy. Her roommates had already disappeared to breakfast, leaving Annabeth, thankfully, alone to choose her outfit. Without the worry of being judged by her scars, she sorted through the few selection of trousers and tops she had brought, perusing each and every one. Eventually, she picked up a faded pair of black skinny jeans and a simple white tank top, which had swirls of grey decorating the shoulders. Of course, concealer was in demand. She fitted her feet into her black combat boots, tied her hair back up with a black ribbon and satisfied, sprinted down the stairs and to the mess hall, where she ran straight into Percy.

"Woah, woah!"

Percy yelped in surprise, toppling sideways from the force, only his lightning quick reactions saving him from crashing to the ground. He held out his hands to the wall and righted himself gracefully. "W-what?" Percy looked mildly annoyed, but such expression softened when he saw Annabeth laughing before him. "Oh, hey Wise Girl, long time no see."  
"It's been a long time Seaweed Brain, sorry for running into you."  
"Eh? No problem."

Group four was cold. After a disappointing breakfast of cold tea and sloppy porridge, Percy, Annabeth and their cohorts stood patiently outside the canteen again, awaiting their irksome instructor. As usual, he was late, harbouring no consideration for his students and the fact that they may be freezing their butts off in the nippy autumnal wind. And though he was prone to showing up later than he was supposed to, it was unusual for him to show up more than ten minutes late, and a half of an hour had come and gone and still the kids saw no Dan. For the first twenty minutes, they had entertained the idea of his creative demise. Of Dan being put in a shredder or assassinated by a Mr Alfonso who in reality was Jackie Chan, but soon, groans and complaints were sprouting up among the throng like fungi or a virus, spreading and spreading.

A sudden movement and a yelp made heads turn. Christopher, a tall, gangly kid from Goode, was flailing in the spot, his feet desperately searching for a balance that the mud beneath his shoes would not allow him. As the class watched, making no attempt to help the falling child, he slipped and sped off down the muddy slope that the complex crested, skidding down the hillside with first a shriek of terror, and then, a whoop as if he were enjoying himself. He began too laugh, his childish cries of delight resounding around the grounds. Christopher's classmates watched him in awe. Once he reached the door of the slope and turned his smiling face toward them, they glanced at each other and then without hesitation, followed their peer's lead. It was rather a curious thing, Annabeth thought as she and Percy slipped down the hillside, that if there was one thing teenagers did not succumb well too, it was boredom, and if they chanced to be starved of entertainment, queer measures were taken to ensure amusement. And a class worth of students chucking themselves down a hillside, slipping and sliding the whole way down and coming up covered in mud was one of these odd things.

"What do you think you are doing? Stop! Stop!"

Dan's voice cut through the air like scissors. Abruptly, each member of the group, save those who were in the midst of sliding down the hill, looked up in shock, the bitter taste of reality crashing down on them all at once.  
"Sir?" A smaller kid asked uncertainly, stumbling forwards, steps filled with innocence and naiveness. Dan waved him off and marched towards Percy and Annabeth who were both covered in mud and scrapes and bore the phantom of a smile on their aching cheeks.  
"What did you do this time?" He hissed at them, though loud enough to be heard by the whole class.  
"Woah, back up," Percy said, offence colouring his tone. "You think me and Annabeth did this?" How the hell did we orchestrate a mass... Sliding? We just wanted some fun seeing as we'd been waiting in the cold for half an hour, awaiting your lousy ass to turn up!"  
The class stifled a gasp and Annabeth elbowed Percy in the ribs. Dan bared his teeth.  
"Annabeth and _I_. And as a matter of fact I do think that yourself and your girlfriend did this."  
Sensing Percy would say something to make himself expelled, Annabeth stepped up hastily. "Sir, we were just sliding down a hill, what in Hades would be wrong with that?"  
Dan sighed in a slightly exasperated manner, and looked the class up and down thoroughly. "No abseiling today," he said after an age long pause, "Go, take a shower, the lot of you, clean the mud off you."  
The class turned and ran to the main building, laughing and high fiving each other. It had been a weird spectacle.

Unsurprisingly, Annabeth has been the lucky one to shower last. Meaning that by the time the other girls, Elise and Courtney, of whom were also in group four, had combed out their long locks and shrieked about the mud and rubbed their Lush shower cream all over their bodies, the water was cold and any hopes of pleasant, hot shower evaporated along with the steam.

Annabeth drew the shower door shut. Instantaneously, the choking feeling of claustrophobia engulfed her in a web of tangled lies and misfortunes, of times underground in a chapel filled with chauvinistic ghosts and a crumbling cavern and spider. Of a rattling elevator car from Tartarus and an underground shrine too Fear and Panic. With a cry, Annabeth let the door open again and breathed in the crisp air. Her muscles relaxed, and Annabeth gladly spun the dial and allowed the cold water to trickle down her body, caressing each scar, each trophy of every battle, each souvenir of every fight.

She didn't want to take such a hasty shower, but time weighed down on her like the sky upon her shoulders. After five minutes of a furious battle with the soap and shampoo, Annabeth stepped out onto the bath mat and wrapped a towel around her wet body. She squeezed the water out of her hair, and grabbed a long sleeved black top with white owls in neat rows adorning it and a comfortable pair of black 'jeggings.' She smiled at her reflection and the ghostly silhouette of a girl hidden by fog smiled back.

Annabeth met Percy outside his dorm room. She waited patiently in the hallway until she heard the water cease flowing and bustling inside. The door opened with a creak, and a familiar mop of black hair, sea green eyes and a muscular body stepped out of the doorframe. It gave a jump when he saw her.

"Wha- Annabeth!?" Percy grinned, his eyes shining like the moon, casting its iridescent sheen on the sea. "Annabeth, what are you doing here? We have the nature trek now."  
"Well, if you really don't want me to come, I just wanted to walk there with you rather than with those bitches in my room. Besides, I wanted to give you this."  
"Give me what?"  
Annabeth stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. She imagined the hallway and the dorms and their separation tomorrow fading away till they no longer existed. She imagined that they could stay like this forever, insides melting like chocolate as their lips touched and their hands wrapped around the other others body and they smiled and their hearts beat so fast that it was as though the other was caffeine. Waking each other up. Heads buried in the sand as they avoided their impending, unavoidable separation. The pangs of longing that would ensue and the screams that would rack their slumber at night without the comfort of the other. Without the other's hands through their fingers and the comforting beat of the other's heart. And so they pulled the wool over their eyes and, for each other they tied it in a firm knot until they could no longer see and they spun and they kissed and they tasted the other's lips on theirs and ran to the light blinking at the end of the tunnel.  
And then when they broke apart they laughed and laughed and laughed.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N, Sorta forgot to do this, so yeah, but... DISCLAIMER *jazz hands*: I don't own PJO or any of its characters (Duh), only my OCs.**

"Gods dam it!" Percy yelped. They were walking through the foyer, still dizzy and elated, and Percy had chanced to look at the clock. "Poseidon's underpants, we're ten minutes late." In most circumstances, this would have bothered neither of them, but being specifically _them,_ as a couple, and having already caused several scenes by means of PDA (Hey, they hadn't necessarily been aware of its publicity), neither of them were inclined to confirm their classmate's suspicions of them indulging in debauchery. It was the last day of this trip, and Percy and Annabeth were determined to not embarrass themselves further.

Dan was standing before the group when they sprinted into the clearing. He rolled his eyes at them. "Decided to finally turn up, took your time eh?" He said, malice colouring his spiteful voice. Sniggers erupted from the students. Percy shrugged and smiled. "Took a heck of a lot less time than you did to turn up, I can tell you that," He replied, unprovoked.

"Granted. Just join the group."

Percy swaggered towards his companions, an easy smile upon his face, Annabeth close behind with a slightly preoccupied favour. She privately was thinking about the long month without Percy that lay before her. Now that she had him again, she did not want to leave him again. Not with the PTSD and the nightmares and the panic attacks and- _No_. She could not bear it. Involuntarily, she began to worry with the hem of her shirt, picking at the thread fringing the material. Besides her, a warm hand laced through her own and squeezed it. When she glanced up, Percy smiled sympathetically, as though he could feel her perturb. Such a perturb he was most likely feeling also.

The trek began in the forest, dappled light casting shadows on the floor. They chased each other, playing on the uneven ground. Annabeth stared down at her feet and concentrated on putting one foot before the other. Left. Right. Left Right. She felt Percy's fingers through her's, sharing the burden of separation. It was strange, Annabeth thought. That something as simple as what the American school system did in a day, five years of constant flirting with death and titans and giants and monsters and Tartarus had not succeeded; To separate them. And oh _gods, Tartarus_. She closed her eyes, desperately fending off the haunting memories. She was Annabeth Chase. She was stronger than this, she could not be hurt by shattered fragments of her past.

At the rear of the group, a few kids had began to complain about the length of their perambulation and the sweltering heat. They were hiking up the hill at around half eleven, the sun beating down mercilessly on their backs. Annabeth stared at the guys in unmasked jealousy. At least _they_ could continue the ramble shirtless, without being so hot. As a girl, the most Annabeth could do was frantically tug at the hem of her tank top to allow air in, roll up her 'Jeggings' to make shorts (Which was no small feat considering the material and their tightness), and tie her hair up in a sloppy ponytail. Oh yes, and pouring buckets of drinking water over her hot body. Drinking water she would then need. Percy was at her side, laughing at her suffering. And dear gods, Annabeth was trying not to stare to hard at his exposed mid-riff.

Eventually, the class stopped for lunch in a valley, basking in the glorified shade provided by the brown trees, seeking sanctuary from the wrathful sun. Annabeth sat besides Percy, tearing into a cheese and tomato sandwich like wolf. She watched the rest of her classmates as they ate in their respective cliques, laughing and preoccupied by nothing in this world. Tomorrow, they would go back to their ordinary. Life of sleeping in a high school dorm or going back to their normal families with their normal friends in their normal houses. It was Sunday the next day, meaning she would be going back to her father and stepmother and stepbrothers for a day, before back to school from Monday to Friday. The thought made her groan.

A sudden movement at her side shook Annabeth from her reverie. Percy reached an arm to her hair and pulled something out of her tangled locks. He cupped his hands together, as if carrying something small inside them and got to his feet. A few paces behind Annabeth, he crouched and placed his hands to the ground, something small crawled out of them into the undergrowth. When he returned, Annabeth shot him a quizzical expression.

"Spider," was all he said, before tearing into his ham sandwich. Annabeth lifted a wary hand to her hair.

Dan, sadistic and inconsiderate, barely allowed them fifteen minutes for their lunch break. After seeing that each student has consumed a fair enough portion of their food, he got to his feet, slapped a sun cap on his head, and loudly called for them to regroup. Grumbles and groans resounded around the clearing as the group begrudgingly got to their feet, canteens now empty, clothes sticking to there bodies. They hastily amassed before their instructor. Percy scrambled to his feet. He extended a hand to Annabeth, who lay on the ground, immobile and unwilling to move.

"C'mon Wise Girl, let's go."

Annabeth entwined her hands through his and allowed him to step firmly on her feet. With this to aid him, he pulled his girlfriend up from the ground to a standing position. Unfortunately, Percy was a little too strong. The momentum sent her hurtling up, crashing into him. Honestly, they didn't mean to make out. Their lips collided. Annabeth made a small sound between a gasp and a laugh. Against her lips, Percy smiled and leaned in to kiss her. For a moment, the world seemed to spiral away and with it, reality. Annabeth forgot where she was, what she was doing, what she _should_ be doing. She was floating on a cloud, she was under water with again, indulging in this trade of emotion, she was spinning into an endless void of nothingness, where all that mattered was Percy's lips on hers and the feel of his skin beneath her fingers.  
A blow of a whistle sent her crashing back to earth with a jolt. She regained a piece of mind and suddenly realised where she was. On a hill. Surrounded by her classmates. Something about a nature trek. Against Percy's lips, she murmured, "Percy, the whole class is watching."  
"Eh?"

Slowly, Annabeth and Percy came apart, blinking as if coming out of a trance. Their peers watched them, laughing vindictively. Percy blushed scarlet, yet somehow, he managed a sheepish grin. He bowed to his audience deeply, and Annabeth, following his lead, curtsied. A red flush undoubtedly colouring her face. For the love of Athena, why did this always happen to them?

"That, my friends," Percy announced, "Was our little rehearsal for, um, Romeo and Juliet. Yep."

The audience's laugher changed from taunting to appreciative. They clapped them loudly, until Dan waved them to the group.  
"Alright! Enough with the theatrics. You're delaying the whole group."  
Percy caught Annabeth's eye. _Romeo and Juliet_. In a way, it was fitting. A romance that should not have happened. A division that should have prevented Eros but did not. Because love should not have been contained like that. Because love was found in the most unexpected places. Around the most hidden corners and deepest dungeons. And in that glance they shared, understanding sparked, and as their peers stared in confusion, they laughed and laughed and laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

It was half five by the time group four eventually arrived back at the complex. They dispersed at the rendezvous, each student waltzing off in their respective gaggles, heading off to whatever calling they had to answer to in the two hour gap before dinner. Most cliques felt the urge to indulge in the game's room, or to sit in their dorms and chat and gossip. Other's were content to simply stroll around the grounds in the surreal tranquility of the evening light, or to kick a ball back and forth between friends, hypnotic like a clock. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Percy and Annabeth, however, dawdled, neither harbouring any particular inclination to join their cohorts. It also became apparent, that Percy had a question to Dan. Nervously, said son of Poseidon approached their instructor who was busying himself with picking up rucksacks and discarded bottles of sun block that littered the ground. The usual clutter that came hand in hand with forty students and a very long, very sweaty day.

"Sir?" Percy asked tentatively. Dan glanced up, bearing his usual scowl and angry favour. "What do you want Mr Jackson?"

"I was wondering if we could use the swimming pool for an hour or two? Please?"

"Absolutely not. Not without supervision. I most likely wouldn't permit the likes of yourselves either young man, even with supervision." He muttered something about frivolity and fraternising. Percy opened his mouth to say something, but realised he had better not. His features assumed a crestfallen aspect. Percy gestured for Annabeth to follow, and turned towards the main building, disappointment visibly oozing out of each and every pore in his skin. Hastily, Annabeth jogged after him. She understood his need to swim. For him, it had become almost like meditation. Following the war with Gaea, it had been his salvation, when the sun began to set and he would drag Annabeth out onto the beach on Long Island Sound and run into the water with a whoop and he would close his eyes and flip on his back and Swim. Swim so well and gracefully it would be as if he were floating on a cloud that could take him anywhere he pleased, and he could grab Annabeth's hand and they could fly away to a place where the tattered, stained cloth of their life and adventures was torn away and the memories and the phantoms could dissipate in the light. And as Annabeth would sit on the shore and watch him with tender eyes as he smiled and closed his eyes and drew a wistful expression of a faraway land, she thought she could see into his mind and picture his thoughts as clearly as a television screen and that was what she would see. And it was so this that Annabeth offered something to Percy so unlike her even his crumpled expression was shadowed fleetingly by surprise. She offered to break the rules.

Annabeth waited for Percy with her feet in the pool, idly swinging. She gazed intently at the water, admiring the way that the light played on the ripples, the patterns cast on the pond's surface. It was mesmerising, she thought. Mesmerising in the way that one could lose themselves among the effulgent way the rays of light hit the 'Adam's ale'- a term her father had once used- or the way the tiled floor changed in appearance and was reflected in the scintillating water. She was so saturated by thought that she did not hear the twig snap behind her. Did not hear the heavy footfalls approaching. Did not hear the deep breathing until he spoke. "Hello Wise Girl," He said.

Now, on most occasions, Annabeth would have been prepared. She would not have been so lost in a trance, and so her guard would have been placed around her like walls or sentries. Unfortunately, it so happened that she had been a little too deep in a reverie, and so when the voice spoke, she uttered a shameful little scream, jumped a mile in the air, and ended up - shorts still on - in the freezing swimming pool. Percy roared with laughter. Turning her head so fast she felt whiplash, Annabeth turned to glare at her boyfriend, who, still laughing, backed up with his hands in the air, as if Annabeth had a dagger in each hand, and not a metaphorical gun in each eye. Admittedly, her deathstare was a killer.

Percy lowered himself into the water grinning like a clown. He didn't seem to mind the sharp, steely cold of the water as he leant into it as one might with a mattress. Faster than Jason's lighting, he zipped to the other end of the pool. Annabeth watched him with barely suppressed envy as she stood shivering in the shallows. A little smile danced on her lips though, as he came swimming back.

"Come on Annabeth!" He moaned, tugging at her arm, "The water's not so bad once you swim around a bit."

"But It's so cold!"

"C'mon, I'll push you in otherwise."

"Don't even think about it!" Annabeth warned. Percy flashed him his endearing trouble-makers smile. "One, two-"

"Percy, no!"

"Three!" With the strength of Heracles, Percy gave an almighty tug on her arm, and Annabeth toppled into the water, laughing too hard to even fight back. The first shock was the cold that closed in on her as soon as the water rushed over her head. It attacked her on all sides, frigid and piercing like a dagger of Stygian Ice. Until now, she hadn't been aware of how loud the forest was. When her ears popped and the hazy roar of underwater claimed her, she realised that the wind and the birds and the distant laughter of the woods was rather loud, the roar of a lion compared to here. And here... here, underwater it was serene and beautiful. Here, she understood Percy's rapturous, undying love for the marine and the sea and the escape it provided. In such a place, one could pretend reality was just a distant illusion. A mere figment of one's imagination.

Finally, she came up for air spluttering and gasping and panting and giggling. "Perseus Jackson. I. Will. Kill you!"

"Gotta dash!"

Annabeth lunged at him.

It was an hour and a half later that they finally glanced at the sun and, saw with a shock, that it was streaked in the various shades of orange and pink and reds that the sunset brings. The shades and hues of tranquility and beauty. Percy glanced at Annabeth smiling. He was shivering and wet and exhausted, though he looked thrilled. Being the good boyfriend he was, he had agreed to allow himself to get wet, to accompany Annabeth in her sodden endeavours. Annabeth swam closer to him, sidling up to his side, interlacing her fingers through his.

"We'd better get going," She said with a sigh. She had had fun that past hour and a bit, swimming and laughing and grinning like a pumpkin. Oh, yes; And kissing. Percy smiled wistfully and squeezed her hand.

"That was fun, we'd better get out if here before Dan finds us." He muttered, his tone thickening with contempt at the name of a certain jerk of an instructor. Annabeth nodded, she turned towards him and stared into those beautiful sea green eyes. She wanted to stare at them all day, could stare at the all day; let herself drown in its depth. Let herself float away and smile and close her eyes as she was carried away by the sea inside his eyes. The sea inside them... She wasn't sure who quite sure what happened next, only that her lips were pressed to his and his ti hers and they were leaning in and the elation was crashing over them again and her brain turned to mush and they could have been dying and she would not have cared. And wings were sprouting on her back and she prepared to lift up into the air and she was beginning to spin and spin and spi-?

"Oy!" Shouted a voice. Percy and Annabeth sprang apart, confused. They were greeted by Dan glowering at them from the pool side. Seriously? Heracles may have been the Starbucks of Ancient Greece, but Dan was the Starbucks of this nature resort. He was everywhere.

"Mr Jackson!" He yelled, louder than Coach Hedge with his megaphone, "I explicitly prohibited you from using this pool, didn't I?"

Percy nodded mutely, a blush tainting his cheeks. With surprising strength, Dan grabbed Percy under the arms and hauled him up onto the banks, then Annabeth. Woah, okay. Perhaps this guy was even more like Heracles than Annabeth had thought. Dan sighed deeply, and observed the pair of them. "Look guys," He said in a voice that to any other may have been friendly, but to Dan sounded anything but, "I get that Mr Alfonso said you only see each other like once a month and you had a rather difficult, rather testing summer, blah blah blah, but that does not give you the right to break every rule we set, carousing around indulging in rather intimate scenarios wherever you please. There are other people here!"

"There wasn't until you came along." Percy pointed out, controlling the knife edge to his voice. Dan sighed in exasperation, tapping his forehead as if he were pushing back against a headache.

"Maybe, Mr Jackson, but I denied you and Miss Chase access to the pool. Especially seeing as your chosen activity appears to be clearing the space between you, and -"

Annabeth cut through his words with a voice like ice. "Sir, I'm fairly sure that the such ways you address your beloved students is such a way prohibited by your superiors? I'm not sure, perhaps that's just to my understanding."

Dan sighed again, deeply and heavily, a mask to the words he did not utter, not knowing how to reply.

"Just go to to dinner, I guess I should say enjoy and it's been a pleasure having you even if it hasn't." He lobbed them their respective towels.

"Oh, and Miss Chase," he called after Annabeth as she ran up the wood trail, "Remember you still have to wash up after dinner!"


	18. Chapter 18

"Miss Chase? Mr Jackson?"  
Annabeth glanced up from her meal, surprised. Across the cafeteria, Mr Alfonso was waving them over with large hand gestures. Percy glanced at Annabeth and shrugged, they got up carefully, cautious of not spilling the bowls of soup before them, and strode over to the elder demigod, ignoring the curious glances thrown in their direction. Mr Alfonso smiled broadly and warmly at them, his face filled with light. For a few seconds that seemed to last hours, he stood there grinning at the daughter of Athena and the son of Poseidon like a mad lunatic, his unnerving blue eyes piercing through their skulls.  
"Sir?" Percy prompted, a quizzical expression written on his handsome face. Annabeth's principal regained his composure, and looked between them, then surveyed the hall around them.  
"I was just checking if you remembered the sleeping arrangement for tonight." He said, his tone hushed. For a moment, Percy looked confused, but suddenly his expression changed with realisation. He smiled.  
"Yes, I remember Sir."  
Mr Alfonso nodded. He turned to Annabeth.  
"Miss Chase, tomorrow our coach leaves at seven am, so you will have to fetch your stuff quickly from your regular dorm. I suggest you pack everything now so as to not hold us up, especially considering your dorm is in the other side of the room from this night's arrangements." He smiled at Annabeth and then turned to Percy. With a beam, he held out his hand which Percy shook.  
"Well, Mr Jackson," he said "In case I don't see you again, it's been an honour meeting you." With that, he turned and strode out of the room, a newfound spring in his step.

Annabeth was hunched over the sink, furiously scrubbing at a very large pot. She hummed as she worked, partly to keep her annoyance in check, partly to take her focus away from Percy, of whom she would be separated from the next day. In the doorway, she was vaguely aware of her candid, benighted, irritating instructor Dan, who seemed to have developed an interest in watching her suffer through the bountiful array of crockery after every meal.

Annabeth was not so accustomed to washing up, this week had been the most she had ever done. Back at camp, they had the Harpies, with their lava spray for 'extra shine' to clean up after every meal. She recalled one fateful day, when she and Percy been made to the dishes by Tantalus after a nasty scrape with Stymphillian **(A/N: did I spell it right?)** pigeons. She could almost feel the weight of the lava gun in her hands. Could they really have been only thirteen then?

Yawning, Annabeth dropped the dish cloth and rubbed her eyes. Which was a big mistake. The washing up liquid stung her eyes like acid. Annabeth but back on the cry which was crawling up her throat. Behind her, she heard Dan snicker.

The door of her dorm opened with a creak. Annabeth had hoped that her roommates would be somewhere else, but alas, there they were, them and it seemed three other girls from Annabeth's school. All crowded around one of their's phone, seemingly talking to someone on iMessage. They turned to stare at Annabeth when she walked in.

Annabeth ignored their glares and pulled her suitcase out from under the bed. She grabbed her rumpled pyjamas from where it lay on her pillow. Mutely, she wriggled into it, ready for sleep, and began to stow her luggage into her suitcase. She hadn't brought so much luggage compared to the other girls, but even so, the trousers and shirts and jumpers and shoes and toiletries and underwear took up a large amount of space in her bag. She was halfway through packing when, in the corner of her eye, she caught sigh of the beautiful blue gown she had worn to the disco. It was honestly a miracle the goddess Aphrodite hadn't made it vanish away, as Annabeth would have thought. Smiling to herself, Annabeth picked it up and carefully folded it, the memory of her moonlit dance with Percy knocking at the doors of her mind. She placed it in her suitcase and continued with the rest of her clothes.

"Oy Lover Girl, where _are_ you going?" Shouted a voice. Annabeth paused and turned, her hand on the doorknob. She shrugged at her cohorts, deciding not to tell them that she would be spending the night with Percy. Another year of taunts and bullying would ensue. More so than already. Besides, they most likely already figured that out.

"Oh, you're going to _Percy_ aren't you?" Elise cackled. Yep. Despite herself; Abrasive, unfazed, unyielding - or so she had been told by Clarisse that these such traits were her most annoying ones - Annabeth Chase, she blushed beetroot red.  
"It's not like that," she muttered in response, "Just sleeping away so that you can have a good night's sleep without me, you know, screaming. Mr Alfonso allowed me to."  
Elise waved her hand, "Fine. Go."  
"I was going to go anyway, with or without your approval."

Annabeth pushed open the door of she and Percy's room to find her Seaweed Brain sprawled on his bed already, eyes closed, his chest rising steadily up and down. He opened an eye at her entry.

"Hello, Wise Girl. Nice PJs."  
"Thank you Seaweed Brain, they're better than your swimming shorts anyway," she said, glancing down at her purple, star speckled flannel pyjamas. Percy laughed loudly. "Good point," he said. Annabeth smiled and sat heavily down on her bed, fumbling in her toiletries bag for her toothbrush and toothpaste. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she heaved herself into her feet and headed to the bathroom.  
"Right, I'm going to brush my teeth." She said, though addressing no one in particular.

Gagging at the taste of the toothpaste, Annabeth began to brush thoroughly. Why her father had thought 'Big Teeth,' bubblegum toothpaste was a good idea was beyond her. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and was somewhat surprised. Staring back at her was not the wraith of a girl she had expected. Not the scarred, small little thing she thought she would see, but a young woman. An admittedly beautiful young woman. Her mind drifted back to a tea in Charleston with two best friends and a certain goddess of love. To being displayed to her friends like a painting in a showcase. _I promised to make her love life interesting didn't I?_ Aphrodite had said. And interesting it had been. But also what Aphrodite has said after. Or before, she wasn't quite sure in the the haze of her mind.

' _You've grown into quite a beautiful young woman'_  
And for the first time in her life, Annabeth looked into the mirror and did not feel bitter.

Annabeth crawled into her covers and drew them over her with a smile. She heard Percy walk across the floor with heavy footfalls and disappear into the bathroom, the door closing with a creak. She heard the faucet turn on and the running of water through the pipes, the sound of bristles against teeth and then the sound of giggling and splashing as though Percy were playing with the water, which he no doubt was. When he came out of the bathroom, he clicked the lift off, pressed a kiss to her head and sighed happily as he retired to his own bed. Within minutes he was snoring.

Annabeth awoke to the creak of a door and a deep, sleep riddled voice saying,

"Okay! Wake up, Wake up, it's six!"  
She sat bolt up right, all her senses flaring, her muscles tensing, a sharp pain ripping up one arm. Annabeth glanced down to find her hands somehow linked with Percy's, who was sleeping face down, his mouth slightly open and drool dripping down onto his sheets. Mr Alfonso surveyed them with amusement. Flustered, Annabeth took her hand from Percy's and began to furiously rake her fingers through her tangled hair, feeling self conscious and embarrassed. It wasn't exactly accommodating to be woken up by the head of your entire school. For such a person to see you with a matted nest of bedhead for hair, embarrassing pyjamas and with your hand entwined through you boyfriend's.  
"Sleep well?" Her principal asked, clearly suppressing laughter at her unease.  
"Very well, thank you."  
"That's good, we're meeting at the reception in twenty minutes, so you'd better grab your suitcase and get dressed. Tell Mr Jackson when he wakes that he is expected to meet his classmates outside the canteen in fifteen."  
"Will do."

Once Mr Alfonso had left the room, Annabeth prodded Percy.

"Seaweed Brain?"  
Percy stirred and muttered something in his sleep.  
"Seaweed Brain!" This time Annabeth shook him so hard, he did indeed wake. He leapt to his feet as if expecting a threat, consequently crashing into his girlfriend.  
"Ow Seaweed Brain, that hurt," Annabeth groaned, rubbing her forehead. Percy gave her a hug. "Sorry Wise Girl."  
"Yeah, so you need to get dressed and all, because you're expected at the canteen in fifteen minutes, suitcase and all."  
"You?"  
"At the reception."  
Percy's face fell. He wrapped Annabeth in an embrace and pressed a kiss to her lips. Annabeth returned it, pressing both against his lips and the melancholy sensation that was filling her up. She broke apart suddenly and put a hand on Percy'a shoulder.  
"Tell you what Seaweed Brain, meet me by the Empire State Building, the main entrance at half five this afternoon. Stay the night at mine."  
"S'long as I'm not expected to go up to Olympus, then I'll gladly come." He pressed another kiss to her lips. One that made her dizzy and alive and concentrated and die all at the same time. One that made her heart melt and clench and she hugged him hard and smiled against him because this was her Seaweed Brain, and she wasn't letting go just yet.


	19. Chapter 19

Annabeth leant against her grey Frenzy suitcase, fruitlessly trying to tamp down the anger in her gut. It was unfair. One week she had been granted with Percy and then, like a tablecloth pulled off a table, it had been ripped away. Of course, the silver lining was there. That Percy would come over to sleep at hers that night and she would see him next month at least. Not have to wait eight, whilst her bovine majesty herself abducted her boyfriend, put him in a deep, long sleep took his memories, sent him to another camp and then finally orchestrated a big, long, dangerous quest for the seven of them that ended in one of their friends dead.  
 _Leo_.  
Annabeth tried not to think about him too much, else she feared her heart might break to pieces. Smashed like glass. Crumpled like paper. Furiously, she blinked back the scalding tears pricking the back of her eyes.  
"Chase, Annabeth!" Called Martini.  
"Present!" Annabeth called as she wordlessly made her way through the crowd to the boot of the coach. The driver took her bag and loaded into the boot. Mr Alfonso stood at the front of the bus and, with an encouraging smile, gestured for her to get in.

Like before, Annabeth chose the very back seat in the furthermore corner. She nestled up, her coat draped over her like a blanket, her phone safely tucked into her tracksuit pockets. It would have been unwise to make a call or a text or to use the Internet on this trip. It could potentially endanger the lives of all her peers, however Chiron had insisted on her taking it, in case an emergency took shape.

She stared out of the window as the engine turned on the bus pulled out of the parking space, into the highway and away, back to Manhattan.

After a couple of hours of rolling hills and drab, bleak fields, the coach turned into a very large service station.

"'Right kids!" Called Mr Alfonso from the front of the bus, "This is your chance to stretch your legs and use the restroom. You can buy some snacks if you want, but be back here in half an hour."  
The students cheered, and hastened to their feet. They tromped out of the bus on an unorganised mess, various cliques amassing by the doors. As Annabeth followed her classmates out of the bus, she pressed a hand to her side, and was relieved to find the form of her dagger, attached to the strap of her bra. Hey, her blade didn't turn into a pen or a coin like that of Percy's or Jason's. Where else was a girl meant to stow a weapon? Admittedly, it wasn't the most accessible place to stow an arm, but as long as she had it... ( **A/N: hang on, lemme just put my arm in my pocket)**

First, she traipsed across the carpark towards the restrooms, which happened to be in a separate part from the main centre. Once she had washed her hands and face thoroughly, she sauntered out of the bathrooms and wandered into the main centre which was dotted with mainstream shops and supermarkets. In urgent need for coffee, Annabeth waltzed into the first Starbucks she came across and ducked into the queue, already ordering an espresso in her mind. The line moved along slowly, crawling like a snail. And as she waited, Annabeth distracted herself by observing each person. Analysing their occupation, their living status, pets? Any small detail about them taken from their outward appearance, much like Sherlock Holmes, except that she was no where near as good a detective as said him and she was very, _very_ tired. Eventually, Annabeth reached the front, which was good, because she was getting restless. She ordered calmly and clearly, which surprised her because she had thought she would mess up, owing to the fact that fatigue was weighing heavily down on her eyelids and her ever-working brain was sluggish. When the time came to pay, Annabeth dug a hand into her pocket and withdrew the change. An arm suddenly crashed into her's and the quarters in her hand went flying onto the floor.

"Oh my gods!" Said the voice, apologetic and deeply sorry, "Let me pick that up." The figure at her side crouched down and gathered up the coins, he handed it to her and smiled at her and... _Gods of Olympus._

"Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth exclaimed with a laugh. Percy looked surprised first, then he grinned back happily. "Hello Wise Girl! Long time no see!"  
They hugged fiercely, Percy pressed a kiss to her head. For a few moments they stayed in an embrace, until somebody near the back of the line cleared their throat. Blushing but laughing, they untangled themselves and Percy handed Annabeth her change. Annabeth was beaming when she passed the cash to the waitress, picked up her coffee and sashayed out of the room, followed by Percy who was sipping an iced latte.

There was still twenty minutes left until Annabeth was required to meet with her school again, and so she and Percy purchased a packet of crisps each and sat on a bench to talk. It was established that they would ring Sally to tell her of Percy staying the night at his girlfriend's as soon as they met at the Empire State Building. They would then catch the subway to the place Frederick Chase was renting for the time being. They would order pizza by phone - or Mr Chase would anyway. No monsters were desired - maybe watch a movie, maybe play a board game or something. For a long time they talked and after a while, it came to a kiss. And they sat lazily, too tired to move and so they kissed and floated and spun.

A sudden roar pierced the air. Immediately, Percy and Annabeth leapt to their feet. The mortals around them were unfazed however, by whatever had just created such a sound. Oh, their blissful ignorance. Immediately, Percy began to run, but Annabeth lingered, trying to get her blade out in the most subtle way possible. Percy, previously running, abruptly turned.

"What in Hades are you doing?" He shouted over the sudden wind. Annabeth pulled a face at him. "Well you see, not all of us have a pen as our blade's sheaf, and so we have to be more resourceful as to where we stow our weapons."  
Percy looked confused, but then started to laugh as realisation dawned on his face.  
"Just hurry up."  
"Okay, okay!" Annabeth put her hand under her shirt and pushed the dagger up. The pommel came up and hit her squarely on the chin. Percy began to roar with laughter.  
"Come on Percy!" Annabeth chided, "We have a bigger problem."  
"It's starting to bruise though."  
"I'll be fine."

They sprinted astride each other, heading towards wherever the roar had come from. Ducking through a hole in fence that read 'Strictly no entrance,' they paused to survey their surroundings. It appeared that Percy and Annabeth had found themselves in what had once been a building site, but the project seemed to have been abandoned long ago. The various be vehicles lay discarded, with their doors rusted shut or treads broken. Dotted among the clutter of frayed rope, piles of broken scaffolding and corroded tyres were interspersed holes in the ground, as if someone had been midway through digging the foundations of a house, and at the far end was indeed the beginnings of a brick building, though only a few layers had been done and post of congealed paint were strewn around its interior.

"But where's the monster?" Percy questioned. Annabeth shrugged.

"Let's start over-" her words were cut off by an immense roar which shook the very ground beneath them. From behind a mountain of rubble stepped a ferocious beast. Scaly, dragon like body. Large, very large with nine long necks. The monster turned on them, it's eyes tunnelling in on the two demigods, sucking the very light out of the room until all eighteen of them became empty voids of darkness. It opened its mouth. And... Fire.  
"Hydra!" Annabeth screamed. She pulled Percy behind the nearest crane just in time as the flame shit past them. The heat was sharp and so strong it almost singed off Annabeth's eyebrows. And she did _not_ want to return to her class without them.

"Percy listen okay! Remember when we went to the Sea of Monsters? We have to cut each head off and then sort of weld its neck with fire!" Annabeth cried over the roar of the flames.

"I know. I'm not completely stupid."  
"That's news to me."  
"I'm guessing you have a plan." Percy muttered in her ear, ignoring her latter comment.  
"I'm working on it."  
"Well if you're planning on going Athena and talking to it, tha-"  
"Shut up Seaweed Brain. Okay well, I have a plan, but it's dangerous and risky so while I a think of a better one, we're going to have to fight it physically."  
Percy grinned and twirled his sword in his hand. "You know, I like your kind of thinking."  
"Just don't cut off its heads yet."

Together, they stepped out from behind the crane. The hydra peered at them curiously and though she wasn't sure if it could, Annabeth thought she saw all nine of its mouths smile eerily. It's eyes gleamed, and she thought that she could read his eyes. They seemed to say

 _Yum, a nice appetiser of Demigod a la Crémè, lemme just get the Malbec and some salt._  
Percy walked up to it nervously. "Yeah, hi O' great Hydra, if you could not kill us that would be wonderful, um...?" He looked helplessly at Annabeth. The hydra either was an inconsiderate little brat or did not understand English - most likely the latter - because it turned opened its mouth and...  
Percy rolled to the side, forcing Annabeth along with him. They came up swords drawn facing the beast. And together, they charged.

Celestial bronze flashed in the air like stars in the night sky. Brilliant arcs of bronze light cutting through the air. At first, it seemed that the attack was going okay. Without the need for words, Annabeth took the left and Percy the right. They worked in sync, performing each move as if it were a dance, hacking and slashing and making cuts in the seemingly impenetrable hide of the monster. But obviously, the table just _had_ to turn.

The hydra turned his head - Three of his heads - either side to face them. It peered at them curiously, obviously feeling no pain from their assault. Well, not for long. Percy made one last hack, directly in the creature's backside, and the hydra bellowed in agony. It turned a fourth head towards him and prepared to blast fire in the Percy's face. Percy stood shell-shocked, peering into the Hydra's open mouth, trembling as if the red inside its mouth and the thought of fire terrified him more than anything in the world. Well, after Tartarus... A stream of flames larger than the Phlegethon came from its mouth directly at Percy. It rushed past him, obscuring him from Annabeth's view. When the flames died down... He was gone.

Annabeth screamed. She ran to the other side of the hydra, fear anger determination coursing through her veins. The world passed in a haze of all and grey and whites and rage. As if Nyx had taken her. As if Akhlys had consumed her.

"Percy!" She howled her voice disjointed by fury, his name resounding on the walls and the trees around her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, burning, scalding her skin like embers tracing her flesh.  
"Here," croaked a voice from behind a sideways truck. A wave of relief passed through her body. Annabeth sprinted to her boyfriend's side. He was propped up against the machinery, his leg was badly burnt and so were his arms but other than that he seemed remarkably okay. Or as okay as one could be in his situation. He was still terribly injured.

"Oh my gods Percy," Annabeth cried, she knelt besides him, tears freely pouring from her cheeks. "Percy, can you stand, oh gods."

"Let's see." He tried for a wan, brave smile. "I've faced worse."  
For a moment, as Percy put a hand against the automobile and steadied himself as he heaved himself up, a silence so palpable even the Hydra behind them could not be heard settle over them. The worse things they had faced. Tartarus and Gaea and Kronos and the Giants and all those quests... Percy fell back down into Annabeth's waiting arms. She set him down carefully.  
"And that's exactly why I freak out so much every time you get hurt." Annabeth murmured, "Hades, have you had some Ambrosia?" She fumbled in her coat pocket for the squares she always carried around and crammed a piece into his mouth. Percy looked slightly amused.  
"I'll be fine Wise Girl, I just don't know how I'm going to go back to the coach like this. Just some nectar and ambrosia, and I will be fine."  
Oh gods, the coach... Annabeth checked her watch and cursed. She was due back at the bus ten minutes ago.  
"Are you okay?" Percy asked.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a tad late to meet my school. It's _you_ who's not okay."  
"Hey I'll be fine."  
And then suddenly they were kissing again. Holding each other tight as if for dear life. Perhaps they could stay like this forever? Locking lips and drowning out the monster behind them and the danger that plagued them every second of every day. Perhaps they could never move and wither away and die here and they would go to Elysium and perhaps life would be sweeter. A flame- a metaphorical one - traced its way along Annabeth's lips. The world spun in a haze of colours around her, and so she shut her eyes and on her eyelids she saw sea green eyes and raven black hair and a tall muscular young man who could survive anything and she did not want to let go.

"Annabeth!" Cried a desperate voice. She broke away from Percy slowly, as if coming out of a trance.

"Annabeth!" A the voice cried out again. "Annab- Holy crap!"  
The daughter of Athena stood up and peered over the edge of the truck. Mr Alfonso stood at the other end of the building site, he eyes wide and alert, fearfully gazing at the Hydra who was now fast asleep.  
"Here, sir!" Me Alfonso turned his eyes on her. He took something out of his pocket and nodded grimly at her. He held up his hand. In it was a small box. A box of matches. Annabeth grinned and beckoned her principal over. He made his way cautiously, creeping behind the mountains of rubble until he finally came to her.  
"Oh my gods, is he okay!" He whisper shouted.  
"I'll be okay," Percy replied. "I can stand already, look."  
With Annabeth ready to catch him if he fell, he got unsteadily to his feet, and found that he could walk, so long as he was supported. He hooked an arm around her shoulders, and she hooked her arm beneath his armpit. Annabeth smiled at Mr Alfonso.  
"See? Right as rain."  
"Okay, fine," Mr Alfonso whispered, "But we have to get out of here now it's asleep."  
"What!? No!" Percy snapped. "No way, it'll torch the whole place and kill the mortals!"  
"Perc-"  
"No, Wise Girl. We have the matches now, we can kill it."  
"Fine."

Annabeth palmed her dagger and the matches. Mr Alfonso followed suit. Leaving Percy resting, despite his protests, they passed out towards the sleeping Hydra. Annabeth inclined her head, signalling that she would take the left and him the right. She handed her principal a blazing match. Once again, her thoughts drifted back to Leo. If he was on the job, he could have slaughtered this Hydra no problem. As it was, none in sundry was a fire user, and so that made the task a whole lot harder.

Annabeth lopped one head off at the same time as Mr Alfonso she welded it together instantly, but the Hydra was now awake. ( **A/N: I'm not sure about you, but I don't know many people who can sleep through decapitation** ) . It gave an almighty roar and thrashed wildly. With shaking hands, Annabeth struck another match and handed it to her principal and another one for herself. She chopped off the next head, her heart beating furiously, and set the neck ablaze. The process was repeated a couple more times by each of them, all happening in a blur: a haze like most or fog. Dimly, Annabeth saw Mr Alfonso finding weeds among the cracks in the paving stones and made them grow tall and tie down the monster firmly. It still breathed fire and venom though, which was a problem neither could prevent and had to simply rely on their reactions. The battle was more of a routine. A systematic approach to a difficult problem. Finally, through sweat and blood the work was done. The hydra exploded into gold dust that formed at Annabeth's feet.

"Back to Tartarus with you." She muttered.

When they finally arrived back at the coach, all the class could do was stare. They delivered Percy, who could now walk by himself, back to his coach, and Mr Alfonso had few words with the driver. Annabeth walked down the aisle with her head high, ignoring the gawks and gasps around the bus. She began to wish she had not chosen the furthermore at seat. By the time she had sat down, her face was burgundy red. Subtly, Annabeth checked her front camera. In all honesty, except for a nasty burn on her leg and her turn clothes, she wasn't scraped that badly, mostly just fading scars she had healed with a little Ambrosia and Nectar. And soon she would be heading home and Percy would be staying the night at her's. She sighed happily and snuggled into her coat.


	20. Chapter 20

As it turned out, there was no need to meet at the Empire State Building, aka, entrance to a certain palace of the gods. No sooner had Annabeth's bus turned into NYC bus terminal, a similar Greyhound pulled in besides and out stepped Goode Academy. That did make plans easier. Norrison disembarked in a jumble of arms and legs and hand luggage all coming down from the racks above their heads like boulders on a mountain. Needless to say, it was a minefield. Though this predicament, Annabeth combated the crowds with the ease of one well practiced. Flawlessly weaving through the shamble as if she were born to this. Eventually, she reached the front, rucksack in tow, and made her way down the steps towards Martini, who was at the foot of the coach, ticking off the names of those as they departed towards their homes for the weekend, or convening with their friends, looking forwards to flashing their fake IDs and getting drunk in some club. A fine way to spend Sunday night.

Annabeth rather surprised Percy. He was reclaiming his suitcase from the quandary that was his sea of classmates, and making towards the nearest exit after signing his name off. Touching a hand to his shoulder, Annabeth had hissed "Hello." in his ear and so he had found himself leaping off the ground in a startled jump, which wasn't great as he was still limping a little

"Woah!" Annabeth muttered, steadying him, "It's only me,"

"Annabeth?" Percy's face broke in a grin.

"Yeah, my bus is parked next to yours," She acknowledged, with a smile and a hug around his body.

"Let's go then." Percy laughed.

By silent agreement, they took a cab to the place Annabeth's dad was renting in Manhattan. They slid into the yellow car and shut the doors with a bang.

"Well, kids," the cabbie asked, sliding back the panel, "Where ya headed?"

Annabeth leant forwards and gave him the address, then leaned back against her seat to watch the New York Skyline as it slid past her in an array of tall buildings and flashing shop fronts. Astride her, Percy did the same, eyes fixated on the landscape as though it were the first time he had ever seen it. Or the last. You never knew when you were a demigod.

Annabeth slotted the key into her lock and turned it. The door opened with a small creak, the noise ricocheting off the narrow hallway walls like a bullet. The house they were renting was fairly big. It opened out into a narrow corridor with a flight of stairs beading up to the first floor on the left. Straight ahead was the kitchen and the dining room combined, an airy room with direct entrance to the garden, and to the right a living room made up of two couches, and arm chair, a coffee table, piano, a TV, a rug and a bookshelf.

Annabeth kicked her sneakers off by the door and led Percy upstairs to her room, which was sandwiched between her brother's room on one side, and her dad and stepmother's on the other. Her bed lay against the wall, rumbled bedsheets and piled with books, books and more books. Though Annabeth was, like most demigods, dyslexic, that had not taken her love of reading, even if it each book took her weeks to complete. Her wardrobe was flung open at the door of her bed, her desk was besides the door, littered with study guides and notebooks. Percy walked in cautiously, mindful of the large Lego projects that adorned the carpeted floor (that Annabeth has done without instructions, and even managed to construct a model of Olympus that lay in one corner).

Percy picked up said model and let out a low whistle.

"Did you make this?"

"Don't act so surprised."

Sitting down heavily on the bed, Percy leaned back and closed his eyes.

"We should contact my mom," He said quietly. Annabeth nodded, and pulled her laptop out from beneath the bed. She had already contacted her dad to tell him Percy would be coming over, so she did not need to tell him. She sat besides Percy and opened up her MacBook, logging into her e-mail. She didn't want to ring for fear that Percy's visit may be cut short by an infuriating monster attack. Nah, Annabeth didn't fancy it.

She made it a short message:

Sally,

Percy is sleeping at my place tonight, so no need to worry about him :). He has his school things for tomorrow.

Love,

Annabeth

She was about to turn of her computer when Percy said, "Can I see your Minecraft?"

Annabeth looked at him and shrugged. "If you don't laugh when I explain my models to you." She logged onto said game, and opened the first world that came up. 'New, New Rome'

Once the map had loaded, Percy gasped.

"Woah! Did you do that?" He asked, staring at the half of New Rome, Annabeth had gotten through, with some improvement of certain buildings. This particular map was a personal request from Reyna, to improve the buildings destroyed in the attack from Leo (oops), and those she seemed slightly drab.

"Yeah, no biggie really."

"No biggie!?" Percy asked incredulously. "You virtually build half of New Rome and tell me it's 'No Biggie'?"

"Apparently. Anyway'- Annabeth turned down the lid of her laptop-'You wanna grab a bite to eat?"

And that was how they presently found themselves balancing bowls of popcorn and packets of chocolate up the stairs towards Annabeth's room. Annabeth nudged the door open with her foot and stumbled inside. She sat on her bed and lay down the bowl of Sweet 'N' Salty Metcalfe's popcorn. Astride her, Percy lowered himself down heavily, making the mattress fly up and shoot Annabeth up into the air.

"Hey!" Complained.

"Sorry Wise Girl,"

Annabeth smiled sweetly at him, and dug a hand into the popcorn. She crammed a fistful into her mouth and allowed herself to enjoy the delicious taste of sugar on her tongue. Letting the sweet taste trace her lips like fire and her tongue like ash. Laughing, Percy did the same, and for that moment, they became normal. Normal mortals. Normal kids. A normal couple. Just two normal people going about their normal lives, unburdened by troubled, demanding, unjust Olympians lounging on their lavish thrones far above. And so normal they were, that they had never held up the sky or battled a Titan or sailed the world in a flying ship to prevent the apocalypse and most of all, so normal they had never crawled through hell and back out he other end. Never, never experienced the ragged turmoil that was their lives.

After a few hours, they finally kissed. They became tangled in each other like the toughest knot, as if manacles had chained them together and the key had been thrown far, far away to a place of no recovery. Music seemed to roar in Annabeth's ears. Beautiful notes like bells across a land and she felt faint like she were falling away and crumbling to the pieces she had become and yet she was so whole, as if Percy's arms and his lips were keeping her from breaking like china. And she had wings sprouting out of her shoulder blades and Zeus may have tried once to separate humans- or so the story said, though blasphemy it may have been - he had failed in separating them and they were still one and the King of the gods could not destroy the love they harboured and the queen of the gods may have erased Percy's mind once upon a time in an era seemingly so far away from this heated kiss and this musty house, but his heart had still been beating and so this was nonsensical and Annabeth's mind was in a haze and her thoughts did not go straight but in curves and turns and she could not think and all that mattered where these lips on hers and even when the lock clicked downstairs, Annabeth didn't care. And even when the sound of heels on wood rang through the walls and a sharp, clipped voice called her name, Annabeth did not care. And even when the door to her room swung open she was still locked together with Percy, not registering what was happening in reality and only when a pair of soft hands wrenched them apart, did she come crashing back down to earth and did her vision come back and did the music cease and she found herself staring into the deep, angry eyes of her stepmother.

"Annabeth Chase." Her voice said in an angry, furious, shocked tone. And then the fires seemed to spread like they tend to do after a plane crash and Annabeth smiled and blushed and wished she could flee.


	21. Chapter 21

"Annabeth Chase." Her step-mother's voice said again. Icy and sharp as the edge of a blade. Annabeth felt a red hot blush crawl up her face.

"Get up, young lady."

Annabeth obliged, knowing better than to not. She raked her hair back, flustered, combing it behind her ears.

"Y-yes?" Annabeth stammered, beetroot red. Helen said nothing, and turned and called down the stairs, "Frederick! Get up here!"

In a matter of seconds, Mr Chase was up the stairs with two small, paint covered boys in tow. They giggled and prodded each other as they ascended.

"Yes, honey? Hello Percy, Annabeth said you would be staying the night."

Percy smiled back, and for a moment, the tension ceased. Helen however, turned to stare incredulously at her husband.

"Wait. You knew about this?"

Frederick looked confused. "Yeah. I didn't think there was a problem."

"I walked in an they were sitting on the bed making out. They didn't even realise I was in there."

Bobby and Matthew, previously watching in curiosity, began to to choke with laughter. Annabeth flushed even harder and fixed them with her deluxe death glare.

"What's so wrong with that?" She challenged, "I'm seventeen for the love of Hades, not twelve anymore."

Frederick appeared conflicted between supporting his wife or his daughter.

"It's not such a big deal Helen," he said after a very long and awkward pause, "Look, they're fully clothed! Imagine that. Not many teenagers would be that sensible! Annabeth is though, she won't try anything. Even if she does-"

"Hey!" Annabeth interrupted, "I'm right here you know."

Frederick smiled at her, obviously suppressing a bout of laughter. He walked up to Percy and shook his hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you Mr Jackson. It's nice that this time your not here to tell me my daughter's life is at stake. Perhaps I can get to know you better. Also, Annabeth; you're paying for more popcorn."

"I think they ate more of each other than the popcorn," Helen muttered darkly. Bobby and Matthew howled so hard with laughter they sounded like wolves.

"Helen!" Frederick gasped, looking at his daughter who had proceeded from beetroot red to a bright magenta.

With that he walked out of the room, his chuckles ringing through the house.

Once the party had cleared out of the room, Helen lingering a few seconds to give them suspicious glances and Bobby and Matthew even longer to giggle, until Annabeth chased them out with a broom, Percy and Annabeth exchanged one glance and doubled over in a fit of hysterical laughter. With just that, the tension, earlier crackling like electricity, cut out, as if someone had turned off the switch.

Annabeth spread her arms towards the door.

"And voila," she said, "My family."

"Heck lot saner than the Olympians, I grant you that."

Mr Chase gladly ordered pizza when requested and handed them cans of coke with a smile. As they waited for dinner, they sat on the trampoline in the garden chatting aimlessly, the sun dappled by the trees, falling on the course fabric in beautiful patterns, reminding Annabeth of the way the shadows and the light played at the camp. Chasing each other along the crest of the hill like a game of tag. Annabeth should have felt homesick, but strangely, did not. Every time she glanced to the side, she saw her Seaweed Brain wearing a relaxed smile on his face as he sipped a coke. Such a sight that filled her with a warm, happy feeling. And even though if she looked beyond him, she could look into the kitchen and see her stepmother peering at them through the kitchen window, even that did not bother her.

There was the merry chime of a doorbell, sounding out through the house. Annabeth's brothers squealed with rapture and ran to the door, their quick footsteps like poundings of a drum.

"Annabeth!" Her dad's voice yelled from somewhere in the depths of the building, "Can you help your brother's get the pizzas?"

"Well, that's my cue," Annabeth murmured with a sidelong glance at Percy.

"Hold up, I wanna come." He said. They clambered out of the trampoline and through the back door. Snatching up the money her dad had left on the kitchen table, Annabeth wove through the furniture and towards the front door, where her brothers were chatting with a tall guy dressed in Pizza Hut uniform, six pizzas in his arm. He glanced up towards the two people hurrying down towards him.

"You paying miss?" He asked Annabeth at seeing the cash in her hand, his Texas accent thick. Annabeth nodded.

"How much?"

"Mm, lemme see, twenty five dollars,"(A/N: please bear in mind this is just a speculation because I have no idea how much they would actually cost) he said with a smile. He observed the curious bunch of kids. Bobby: small, brown eyes, dark hair, Oriental (another A/N: this isn't canon I don't think, but Helen is from East Asia right? And it's usually the dominant gene);Matthew: Also small, brown eyes, dark hair, Oriental; Percy: Tall, green eyes, black hair, Caucasian; Annabeth: Tall, grey eyes, blonde hair, Caucasian.

"Are y'all siblings?" The guy asked, confused.

"Sort of," Bobby said, "Matthew and I are twins'- he gestured between them- 'Annabeth's our half-sister'- he gestured to said girl-' And that's Percy, her boyfriend." He sniggered at the last part, and the delivery guy looked at Annabeth and smiled sympathetically, like

Hey, little brothers? A damned pain up the arse aren't they?

Each carrying two pizzas, the company retreated to the kitchen where Helen and Mr Chase where laying the table, juggling various pieces of crockery precariously placed on their arms.

"Shall I help?" Percy asked tentatively. Helen looked as if she'd been slapped across the face repeatedly by a toddler, put in an electric chair and then walked through a haunted house and received many a jump scare. That is to say: Shocked. Annabeth guessed that Percy's troublemaker smile and mischievous glint in the eye had made her stepmother automatically brand him as a delinquent.

"S-sure," Helen stuttered, "Thank you."

Percy smiled at her. "My pleasure."

As Percy took a few pates from Helen's arms, Mr Chase looked up and smiled tenderly. A kind, happy smile and walked over to Annabeth. Much to her chagrin, he handed his eldest the wet crockery in is grasp and nudged her towards the table, indicating for her to also help.

"Oh that's not fair!" She protested, glancing at her brothers, who were disassembling a small Lego model of the Golden Gate Bridge she had made earlier. "Bobby and Matthew never have to help." "That's because they break any ceramic they meet."

"But I saved the world. Surely that should merit for something?" Annabeth demanded. Her father just laughed and ruffled her hair. Then he assumed a more serious aspect. "Yes, but there were also some incidents during a certain trip that we need to talk about." He muttered. His daughter rolled her eyes and waltzed away, distributing the various utensils in her grip.

"So... Percy?" Percy looked up from his slice of pepperoni and wiped his mouth on a napkin. "Yeah?" Besides him, Annabeth looked down at her lap and sighed. Well, time for an interrogation.

"So, you're a son of Poseidon?" Frederick asked, clearly trying to make conversation. Percy nodded. "Yep, but it's honestly not all its cut out to be. Been to Camp Half-Blood since I was twelve."

"I can't stress how nice it is that we can have a nice dinner together now, rather than having to rush off after being told my daughter's mortal life is being threatened."

"That's understandable, Mr Chase." Percy replied, though his voice had an edge of humour. Frederick chuckled, and took a large bite of his Sloppy Giuseppe.

"And I understand you save the world. That's kinda your thing."

"Saved humanity many a time sir." Percy smiled winningly, though his pantomime was purely comical, so that he was almost pretending it was simply a risible idea. Annabeth supposed that this was just a mask to the true, raw pain. Just a facade. That beneath the cute, roguish face on the outside, beneath such countenance was sadness and the dastardly fear and panic coming hand in hand with these years of the endless perils they had faced over the expanse of these years. Of course, he was not joking when he said this, and though he could not convince those in vicinity, he could perhaps convince himself. And still the Chases tittered and chortled at his expressions. And as if a chain had been snapped, Percy's smile turned into something more comfortable, and Annabeth smiled at seeing his ease here. She wanted him to feel welcome.

Helen hadn't wanted Percy sleeping in Annabeth's floor, but once her step-daughter had reasoned that A) No nightmares (Sleep, yay), B) They had to wake early to get to their respective schools without disturbing the whole house with the movement,(More sleep, yay), and C) With Helen and Fredericks room on one side, and the boys' on the other, they had less privacy up here than downstairs (Just to put her distrustful Stepmother at ease). Annabeth hauled a soft mattress up the stairs, grabbed sheets, pillows, gave Percy a quilt from her bed and presently, there was a nice soft make-shift bed besides Annabeth's. She wriggled into her pyjamas as Percy brushed his teeth in the bathroom, and crashed onto her billet with a contented sigh. Seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

"Yo Wise Girl, you decent?" Percy said, possibly a little louder than he should have as if to prove a point to Helen in the other room. Annabeth thought she heard her dad laugh.

"Yeah." She answered, her voice muffled from her head buried under the blankets. With a creak, the door opened, and Percy walked in. He sat down heavily on his bed and nestled into the covers.

Suddenly, there was the audible sound of a mattress groaning as Percy sat up sharply in bed. Annabeth turned and raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"Shall I turn the lights off?"

"What a gentleman. Thank you."

"Anything for you,my princess," He said feigning seriousness. Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Seaweed Brain?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." She said, inclining her head to her parents room. Percy began to laugh. "Sure, your majesty"

Annabeth chucked a pillow at his head.

Once the lights had clicked off, Percy made his way back to his bed. Or tried to. The night was pitch black, and so one foot sent him sprawling over the waste paper bin. HIs reflexes kept him from hitting the floor and his hand shot out to the nearest object; Annabeth's desk. He righted himself laughing and blundered forwards, this time tripping over his own mattress. He pitched forwards, face planting his girlfriends's bed, and came up laughing. Annabeth to began to snigger, and helped him up. Unfortunately - or not so unfortunately- Percy came up with too much force and accidentally bashed his face against Annabeth's. She laughed, shrugged and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Good night Seaweed Brain."

"Night Wise Girl."

They linked hands again, and as the night grew old, and the stars pricked sky which slowly turned lighter and lighter and they slept. And slept. And no nightmares knocked on the doors of their minds.


	22. Chapter 22

Beep

Beep

Beep

The incessant honking of an alarm clock pulled Annabeth sharply from her slumber. She groaned deeply, and opened her eyes to be greeted with blinding morning light sweeping in through the shutters and the overbearing, relentless noises of the metropolis around her. Yawning, Annabeth swivelled in bed and made to stand up, only to find the floor a strange shape which uttered a startled noise, moved and threw her back onto her berth.

"Woah!" Annabeth yelped. She squinted down at the floor and presently began to laugh quietly. On the floor, tangled in a disorganised mess of bedsheets and messy raven hair, lay the figure of her boyfriend, the blinds over his beautiful eyes up beneath his eyebrows.

"Morning Seaweed Brain. Forgot you were here."

Percy sat up, his face wan and haggard. "I feel loved." He croaked, grogginess wearing on his voice. He accepted Annabeth's hand and heaved himself up, swaying slightly in the way one does come the morning before school.

"What time is it?" Percy inquired, rubbing his gorgeous eyes. Annabeth momentarily forgot to answer, accidentally lost in her boyfriend's perfectly tousled hair and his tall, muscular body. She thought the scars just made him even more handsome. Like trophies of the things he had lost and the things he had found and that he was strong and a fighter and no matter what happened, he would pull through.

"Yo... Annabeth?"

Annabeth blinked, coming out of her reverie as if in a trance.

"Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

"Oh, um... Six."

"Six!?" Percy whisper yelled.

"It's not that early. Besides, we both need to get to our different schools."

Percy shrugged in acquiescence, and grabbed his bag. He incline his head towards the toilet, asking if he should change there. Annabeth waved her hand towards it. Like,

Shoo, get outta here.

Percy grinned, bowed deeply, and hoisted his rucksack onto his shoulder. Once he had disappeared, Annabeth padded across the carpet towards her closet and threw open the doors. On most occasions, she was not particularly preoccupied about her clothes. Perhaps a pair of nice jeans and a tank top. Yet today, she decides to take just a small bit more effort. Perhaps because Percy would be coming with her. Perhaps because she was just sick of her peer's relentless teasing.

Annabeth peered into her wardrobe and selected a pair of blue ripped shorts over a pair of leggings (well it was Autumn), and a owl patterned grey T-Shirt. She stuffed her feet into her combat boots, shrugged on a jacket and gazed into the mirror, hairbrush in one hand. Not for the first time, Annabeth wished she had a mother who would carefully brush her locks and style her hair in intricate plaits. Instead, she faced the imminent death of her hairbrush (cause of death: snapping on half due to too thick knots), and possibly the demise of her hair bands as they burst apart in the fruitless attempt to keep her curly hair together.

After a battle that did indeed proved the end of her brush's existence (RIP), She settled for a ribbon in her ponytail, and a dash of mascara to her hollow eyes.

There was a knock on the door, and Percy stumbled in, sporting corduroy trousers, trainers and a flannel shirt. He had his school bag over one shoulder, (Annabeth's spare bag, filled with stationary she had lent him), and was grinning madly.

"So," Annabeth said, "Breakfast?"

Minutes later, the pair found themselves sitting at the kitchen table, sipping mugs of steaming coffee, and taking big bites out of cheese toasties. The light from the garden filtered into the kitchen, bathing the room in a warm, sunny glow, the radio played quietly besides a vase of tulips, the presenter proclaiming in an eloquent voice the weather statistics for the coming day. Not that Annabeth payed any attention to it. Long ago she had learned not to trust the mortal weather reports. It was the gods that's controlled the weather and the so called 'scientists' who predicted such things were naive and frauds.

After a peaceful half hour of exchanging snippets of easy conversation and eating with great rapture, there was a creak on the steps. Annabeth and Percy jumped up, Percy pulling out riptide (keeping it in pen form) and Annabeth (who was not in the mood for a trip up her shirt to rescue her blade), palmed a meat knife. "Who's there?" Percy called. The guy had clearly been watching too many horror films recently. There was a friendly laugh from up the stairs.

"Woah, don't kill me please,"

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey dad."

Frederick Chase appeared through the door with an aviation magazine tucked under his arm. He studied them carefully. "It's nearly seven guys, you're going to be late."

"Wha- damn, already!?" Annabeth exclaimed, checking her cell phone.

"Shall I drive you?" Her dad asked, "Now that I'm here and everything."

"That would be nice," Annabeth said. "Thanks."

It took all of a few moments, and the crew was soon crowded inside Mr Chase's Audi. In the back, Percy and Annabeth shared a last cup of coffee; one last, desperate attempt to not fall asleep during maths class, which would be bad and most likely end in a nightmare and being stabbed in the face with a compass. At the very least a very long detention. None of which were preferable. Frederick cranked up the music station, and presently they were speeding through the streets of Manhattan, tunes blasting out of the open windows. Mr Chase was making his routine check of everything on the first day of school.

"Pens?" He asked.

"Yep," replied Percy and Annabeth.

"Calculator?"

"Yeah."

"Text books?"

"Yeah."

"Drachmas."

"Um, think so." Annabeth muttered. She dug around in her pocket and produced three silver coins, and handed one to her boyfriend.

"Weapons?"

"Yes."

"And for the love of the gods Annabeth, tell me you have your sword in a more accessible place this time. I won't have my only daughter dying because she couldn't get her sword out in time."

Annabeth pulled a face at her dad and pushed her dagger out from under her shirt. Again, it hit her on the chin. Her dad and Percy roared with laughter.

"Thanks guys," she muttered, "Nice to know the two people I love most are such sadists."

"You trod on my face this morning!" Percy protested.

"Touché."

Annabeth was disappointed to find out how near Percy's school was. She wanted to stay with him forever. Wanted to hold his hand and never let go. Wanted to wrap her arms around him and force him to stay. Though Annabeth had loved before, never so deeply and with so much compassion. She would stare at Percy, and lose herself in the gentle waves of his hair and drown in the deep, endless depths of his prepossessing eyes. The eyes are the window to soul and through those casements she could see the swirling profundity of his heart. In them she could the life and the lights and the humorous jokes he made. And sometimes the hollow, broken shattered glass that made her want to lie besides him and hold him tight and fix every wound inside him. Every scar that was invisible to the eye and every open door in his mind. The open doors that let in the monsters and the phantoms and the creatures of the dark. The open doors that cut through his sleep and his rest like a blade. The open doors she wished she could access so she could live in his mind and in times of despair, she could sit there and whisper soothing tales in his mind and remind him that no matter how many miles or seas or planets or galaxies or universes (gods forbid), she would always be there to hold his hand.

The door of the car opening brought Annabeth back to earth with a sickening jolt. Tears scalded the back of her eyes, and she reached an a slightly shaking arm out to him, and touched his shoulder.

"Percy."

Percy looked towards her, he also apparently reluctant to leave because he appeared to be taking an abnormally long time to unfasten his seatbelt. He turned toward her, his eyes slightly glassy but he managed a small smile.

"Hey," he squeezed her hand, "I'll see you at camp right? A month's not that long."

"Anything can happen in a month. You know that better than anyone." Annabeth replied, her voice seemed to be peeling. Breaking. Tattered. She leaned forwards to press a kiss to his lips and in that instant, he didn't have to go. In that instant, they weren't in this car, they were underground, a volcano far above them, in a labyrinth said to wreck the strongest of minds. They were in the dining pavilion, being hoisted up by friends and thrown into a lake and a bubble was around them and then they were surrounded by formidable Romans in a strange place and then in a stable and in a river of Wailing and underground again, beneath Athens and the Acropolis and a horde of bloodthirsty Giants and they were relieving all the moments that their lips were locked and all their adventures and all the times that they were clinging on to each other as the only source of light in this dark, dark place.

They only broke apart when somebody cleared their throat, undoubted Annabeth's father. Percy gave Annabeth a wry smile, shouldered his bag and stepped out of the car, his expression contorted in a grimace.

"Thanks Mr Chase." He said. Then he turned to his girlfriend.

"I'll Iris Message every day!"

Annabeth barely had time to nod, before the care sped away and the only light in her life was left a small insignificant dot on the sidewalk.

Mr Chase was blatantly studying his daughter in the rear-view mirror. Annabeth could see that. She stared down at her lap, trying to no avail to contain the tears that pricked her eyes like javelins.

"Honey," Frederick said with a sigh, swivelled around to face her "You'll see him soon."

"Uh-huh. In a month. Dad, being a demigod, a month could mean a lot of things. You could die at any given moment."

"You don't seem likely to drop down dead right now."

"Dear gods, yes I am if you don't damn keep your eyes on the road!"

Her dad chortled and turned back towards the front.

"So, you stepped on his face this morning?" He asked after a freight silence. Annabeth nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Sorta forgot he was there."

"My, aren't you caring?"

Annabeth laughed a little despite herself, and turned back to the window, watching anxiously as the familiar stone building of her school came into view and her dad pulled up besides it.


	23. Chapter 23

Annabeth watched the steady throng of pupils stream in through the school gates. She didn't want to go in. Didn't want to face the taunts her classmates would throw at her like a volley of bullets. Didn't want to face English class, where a spelling test awaited her or the long, tiresome day she would forge without Percy. Like the tide, he had come, and then he had gone and there was nothing either of them could do about it. Like the tide, he would of course return but such a visit would be fleeting, like trying to catch smoke in her hand. It would float away. With an aching heart, Annabeth placed one foot before the other and concentrated on not losing her balance. Not succumbing to the nausea that came with both love and longing.

She joined the sea of kids easily, using the endless array of limbs and bodies to carry her along into the main building. Unlike usual, Annabeth had arrived late. That is to say, she arrived with perfect timing, at such an hour that most kids arrived, and was hence caught in he mad rush of students battling their way into the building or high fiving their friends.

Unwilling to continue with such a mob, Annabeth ducked into a side corridor and established that she would take the longer way around to her locker.  
She meandered through various corridors and an atrium until she finally reached locker 73. Wearily, Annabeth stuffed her things into her bag and replaced some of the useless books she would not need to today. Besides her, appeared the figure of another girl. Such a figure that has become so familiar over the course of the previous week that Annabeth would have been able to decipher it from a mile away.  
"How ya doing Lover Girl?" Said the snarky voice of Elise, pounding in Annabeth's eardrums as if a thousand angry fists were punching them. Resonating through her bones and her heart and her muscles like a bass at a concert. Her blood boiled. Her hands clenched.  
Noting her anger, Elise pulled a sympathetic face. Such a type that was mocking and sarcastic.  
"Uh-oh. Missing your boyfriend?"  
Elise's voice was taunting and smooth as butter, dripping malice as thick as blood.  
Annabeth spun around to face her oppressor, taking deep, calming breaths. This girl was a bitch. She was a bully and a freak. Children of Athena did not allow such people to get under the skin. They built firm walls around them and blocked their enemy's way in. So that they could not crawl into their victim's mind and contaminate it with forked tongues and throwaway comments. And those walls would last forever.

Still seething from her little encounter with Elise, or rather Elise's monologue, Annabeth stalked into home room with her head held high and her pride held higher. She plonked herself heavily down at her table, awaiting the onslaught of insults that would come from those of group 4. No sooner had Annabeth taken out her pencil case, Gretel slid into the table besides her.

"How ya doing Lover Girl?"

Annabeth sighed and turned to face the ugly girl astride her. "That's the second time I've heard that in ten minutes. Honestly, you all care so much. I'm touched." She hissed, "Your face is healing up nicely."

Gretel touched a hand to her surgically altered countenance which was still riddled with a few prominent bruises. She smiled sweetly at Annabeth. "Thanks Chase. Enjoy the washing up?"  
"Very much, thank you."  
With a scowl, Gretel flounced off to join her annoying friends near the front of the table. In the corner f her eye, Annabeth saw them exchange words and throw a blitz of dirty looks in her direction. Not that she cared.

Period one was English. Wonderful. Martini stood surveying the class as they came in, a sheet of paper, no doubt a spelling quiz to torture her vulnerable students with. As Annabeth came in and settled herself at her desk, Martini stalked down the aisle towards her with the alarming likeness of one of Hades's Furies. Or Perhaps the Fates. Neither which was favourable.

"Hello Alect- Mrs Martin. Had a nice trip at the residential?"Annabeth asked politely.  
Martini looked surprised. Her face broke into a smile. Such a smile that turned her face from a withered hag to one of a phantom and chilled Annabeth's bones.  
"Why thank you Miss Chase, I did have a surprisingly pleasant trip. I know you did. Quite a few spectacles you put on with your boyfriend, I must say. And dearie me, what happened to you two at that service station?"  
Snickers resounded through the room, knowing looks traded like money. Annabeth flushed scarlet, though in embarrassment or rage she was not sure. Was the whole school set against her? Her parents and her school and the giants and _di immortales_ , the gods themselves. With Hermes and her mother and the apocalypse and why, _why_ , couldn't Annabeth just be granted the only thing she wanted in the world?  
To be a normal teenager. Was it really too much to ask?

The lesson had been tedious. Dragging out like trying to walk with a one hundred kilogram dumbbell to her ankle. Martini had given her one last poisoned smile and resumed the lesson. It seemed to Annabeth that she had purposefully made the test harder than normal. In her monotonous voice, Martini had read out each word slowly and carefully, and still Annabeth's dyslexic brain had not been able to wrap itself around each word, the letters floating and swimming around her eyes and her brain and her hand like fog. The fatigue did not help either. Out of twenty questions, Annabeth had gotten five right. The worst in the class. She, daughter of Athena, bottom of the class. And though her cheeks burned, not as much as her heart. As much as the heart in her ribcage that by a miracle of the gods was still beating, but was now made of glass.

It was Study Hall after eyelids drooping, Annabeth dragged her feet from the cafeteria to room 98 alongside her cohorts. She felt her shoulders chafing beneath the straps of her bag, her dagger, cleverly tucked away in her boots painfully digging into her sock, her ribbon too tight, pulling on her hair uncomfortably. Annabeth's brain was foggy with exhaustion as she stepped wearily into the classroom. Even the crass comments hurled at her simply bounced off her skin, the young demigod too tired to register or retaliate to the battles her peers were demanding. Rubbing her eyes, she unzipped her bag and took out her books, far away from the rest of the class. The words on her page jumbled up before her and that she _did_ read made no sense, as if the writing was in a foreign language. Flustered, she raked a hand through her hair and fiddled at the hem of her top and fought sleep harder than any battle she had ever faced. She was drained of life and saturated with drowsiness. Her head was nodding towards the desk.

 _No._  
 _Yes,_ said another voice in the back of her mind.

 _No, No._  
 _Yes._

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts were clouding, her mind was drifting. And Annabeth was forced to bystand, to helplessly struggle to regain consciousness. To observe in horror as her eyelids drooped and her head nodded slowly and blackness bruised her vision and her mind and the nightmare crashed over her.

 _She was falling. An interminable, ever-lasting plunge to her death. As she descended, the wind ripped her hair up, her clothes flying around her. Something cool touched her skin and Annabeth glanced down in her surprise. Rain? No, Glass. Glass showered down from the heavens, pricking her skin, causing violent pain to rack through her body. Annabeth clamped down on a scream. Panic was filling her up, choking her, asphyxiating her. There was a figure suddenly besides her. A figure Annabeth vaguely registered as Akhlys. Before the demigod's eyes, the goddess unleashed a wave of poison and misery that crashed over her mortal skin. And she really was drowning and gasping for air and crying and howling and kicking in the air as she turned round and round and round in mid air. And suddenly there was a river below and in it the lifeless body of... The lifeless body of the boy she loved so much and the one she cherished more than anything in the world and before her eyes an angel descended and took him away and a scream for her dead lover tore her throat apart and Annabeth cried. And cried. And she cried and screamed and howled as she dived towards the icy depths of the Acheron far, far below._

 _"Percy!"_

"Annabeth, oh my God!"

Annabeth's eyelids flew open. She gasped, the name of her lover stuck in her throat, like a poison that would not go down. Or come up. Confused, she took in her surroundings. She found herself on the floor, A group of worried kids and a teacher knelt around her. She was hot and clammy. Someone had a hand to her forehead, and her face was wet, streaked with tears. Vaguely, she registered someone offering her a hand and pulling her up. Once she was back in her seat, sweating and spluttering and clamping down on the scream clawing its way up, tearing her oscilloscope, but okay, the teacher looked at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

Annabeth took a gulp of air and forced herself to calm. She looked at the teacher crouched before her, and tried for a smile that fooled no one. In the front of the class, a disembodied voice, most likely that of Shan's, suddenly piped up. It told the teacher of Annabeth's misdemeanour in the canteen and frequent ephialtes that wrecked her slumber, when she would awake screaming for Percy and sometimes emptying the contents of her stomach down the toilet basin. Those were the worst. Those incubus that struck her heart like an arrow, her lungs like bullets so she could no longer breath or stand or speak. The teacher pursed her lips and turned back to Annabeth after thanking the voice from the front.

"Who's Percy, Miss Chase?"

Annabeth glanced at her feet, trying to quell the flood of longing building up inside her. "My friend."  
Someone snorted loudly. Another giggled. 'You don't snog your friend hun,' someone muttered. Annabeth ignored these and smiled again. She brushed at her legs, a habit she had acquired over the years, and stood.  
"I'm fine,"She told the teacher, "Thank you, if you don't mind, could I just have a breath of fresh air and a drink please."  
"I'll accompany you."  
"You don't have to."  
"School rules, Miss Chase."

Presently, the pair found themselves blundering through the hallways, meandering towards the lawn. A sudden voice broke the previous silence.

"I don't mean to pry Annabeth, but I am the Student Welfare Officer. I would appreciate it if you could tell me why you have these nightmares."  
For a moment, Annabeth just stared, until the teacher cleared her throat. She blinked rapidly. "Yeah, um. It's just, you know, PTSD."  
The teacher rolled her eyes. "That much is obvious Miss Chase. What I mean is if you could explain to me _why_ , you have PTSD. It's my job. I could fix you up with a therapist and perhaps help you."  
"I'm sorry miss, but no one can help except for Percy. This isn't a normal case of PTSD."  
"Who _is_ Percy."  
"Huh?" Annabeth hadn't realised she'd mentioned him. "My boyfriend. He sorta has the same thing."  
"Look Miss Chase. My name is Mrs Kemp. Maybe get your parents to e-mail me."  
"I'm sorry but-"  
"We'd better be getting back to class. Have some water and let's go."  
Annnabeth sighed, huffed and stomped towards the water fountain.


	24. Chapter 24

**(A/N: OKAY GUYS, SO I'M GOING TO CONTINUE THIS STORY AS A HIGH SCHOOL PERCABETH STORY. I KNOW IT'S GONNA BE CLICHE, BUT I'M HAVING FUN WRITING THIS AND DON'T WANT TO STOP JUST YET. ALSO I'M NOT AMERICAN AND HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE AMERICAN EDUCATION SYSTEM IS LIKE SO IT WOULD REALLY HELP IF SOMEONE EXPLAINED TO ME THE DEAL WITH SENIORS AND SOPHOMORE AND ALL THAT LOT. ALSO IF SOMEONE COULD SEND ME THEIR SCHOOL TIMETABLE (TIMEs INCLUDED) BECAUSE THAT WOULD REALLY HELP, as I think you guy's timetables are different than those we have here in the UK. THANKS EVERYONE WHO'S STUCK AROUND TILL UP TO HERE. I APPRECIATE Y'ALL ~ VALEN :) )**

Annabeth was still fuming from her talk with Mrs Kemp when she slipped the key into the lock and opened her front door after school. It really didn't help that no sooner had the door creaked open, the first voice she was greeted with was that of Helen's. Dropping her bag by her shoes, Annabeth casually strode into the kitchen to grab a snack. Unfortunately, that was where her stepmother chanced to be. She cornered her stepdaughter just as she was popping a soda and making towards the biscuit tin, In one hand holding a tub of lipstick and in another her cell phone. A text message addressed from a certain Mrs Kemp. Helen pushed the phone into Annabeth's face, her countenance twisted with contempt.  
"Care to explain this, young lady?"

Seconds later, the duo found themselves sitting on opposing couches in the living room. Annabeth made a show of sighing. She signalled upstairs towards her room.

"Can we make this quick please, I need to go and phone Perc-"

"Nope. Your boyfriend can wait."  
Annabeth started to get up, "Um, no actually. He can't." She was at the door now.

"You get back here right now."

Annabeth pulled a face. "Whatever happened at school was not my fault." She said firmly, though sliding back onto the leather sofa.

"You fell asleep."

"Well... Yeah."

"You had a nightmare."  
"... Yes."

"You were crying, screaming for Percy, fell to the ground and disrupted the entire class."

"It was just Study Hall."

"And you were then referred to therapy."

Annabeth was mute. She just nodded and stared at her feet.

"You don't even _need_ therapy Annabeth."

For a moment, Annabeth just gaped at her. A shocked, frazzled silence settled over them. Most kids would be happy if they were told they did not need therapy, but to Annabeth it was an insult. Annabeth did not want therapy, but she knew she needed it. For her stepmother to say she didn't, It was her stepmother blatantly dismissing the troubles of her past. The wars and the deaths and the monsters and gods of Olympus, _Tartarus_. It was ignoring the true horrors that had shaken her life. It was tossing each of her adventures and her quests and her flirting with death aside like a used tissue. It was suggesting that her stepdaughter's trek through literal hell and battle to save humanity and constant dangers she faced were nothing. Done for nothing. Not needed. It was a wonder she had lasted until seventeen without snapping under the weight of the sky upon her shoulders.

Annabeth flew to her feet, foaming at her mouth. She stared at her stepmother who sat demurely on the couch, untroubled by anything in this world. Annabeth was alone and sinking into her problems and troubles and the only person who cared could not be with her now. She whirled on her stepmother.

"Oh, don't I?" She seethed. "The wool is over your eyes Helen! Take it off. Look around you .What do you see? Do you see sand or me. I ran away at seven because of _you_. I have led wars and quests and held up the sky and I've never run since that year. I've saved humanity Helen. And you know what I did for you? For you and all those other imbeciles around me who care for nothing except themselves? For those who live with their head buried so deep in the sand, it is melting? I killed giants and battled titans. I crawled alone through the deepest parts of earth. I defeated my mortal enemy and watched my friends die around me like flies! Did you care any of the time? When I held the sky on my shoulders or traipsed through a labyrinth deemed to turn the strongest minded insane. Ten years of this. And did you ever care? Did you care to find out what Percy and I trekked through last July. I'll give you a clue. My seventeenth birthday was spent in hell, but did you care to find _that_ out? I'm broken. I've been shattered. I crawled through Tartarus my _dear_ stepmother!" Annabeth howled, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her voice was cracking like glass. Disjointed and painful. " _I crawled through Tartarus_!" She screamed louder. "Did you ever care about me? No! You stayed and never lost any sleep did you? Not once in any of these years as my life was almost ended. No, because you tied the wool around your eyes so tight you could not pull it off! I crawled through the very bottom of the earth. The world almost ended. And I almost died. And what were you doing? Taking a kip? Watching a little telly? Did you spare a thought for me!? _I crawled through hell for the love of the gods_. Do you think that's something you recover from? From beaches of glass and goddesses of poison and rivers of lamentation and doors of Death? From Giant spiders and demons who curse you for every monster I had ever killed? Blindness and Abandonment and I was weaponless! I had to drink fire _di immortales._ I was forced to watch as my boyfriend toed the doorstep closer to death than he ever had. I had to battle the incarnation of Tartarus himself! I had to sacrifice friends for my sake and now I am forced to live with that burden. To battle with the grief and the rage every hour. The scars and nightmares will never fade away! They are the living reminders, and you think I don't need help?"

The world was spinning away now. Falling away and the room was a blur as Annabeth fell to the floor, her voice broken by sobs as she cursed her stepmother and told her everything. Told her about all the battles and the fights and the anger and helplessness in a way she had never regaled to anyone before. As she collapsed on the carpeted floor and poured out her heart to the woman before her. She lay out her thoughts and delusions and hopes and ambitions and everything her stepmother. She put them on the coffee table like weapons and trembled and shook and filled Helen's ears with the desperate tales of she and Percy. Of their quests and the gods and the wars and the seven and the Athena Parthenos and absolutely _everything._ Even of Thalia and Luke and _Family._ And with every story it came back around to Tartarus and the bodies of her friends lying around each other; the aftermath of every melee and war. Te pains and horrors of Tartarus. And on the floor, she retched and retched on an empty stomach. And once her soul was on the ground before her, Annabeth finally took a deep breath and stood up with shaking legs

"We'll talk about the therapy when my dad gets home." She said surprisingly calmly, though her face was blotchy and riddled with tears. Then she turned on her heel, pushed past her brothers who were standing in the doorway gaping, and stormed up the stairs.

"Where are you going Annabeth!" Helen shouted from downstairs, though her voice held no malice.

"To Iris Message Percy!" Annabeth yelled back, her voice coloured with pain and anguish and anger. At the foot of the stairs, Helen just nodded. A few minutes later, once Annabeth had established a good connection and was beginning her conversation with her boyfriend, Helen came upstairs with a plate of cookies and a glass of juice. She didn't say anything, just laid them down on the bed besides her stepdaughter and padded softly out of the room.

Two hours later, Frederick Chase returned home. There was the sound of quick footsteps as Annabeth's brothers ran to meet their dad. Slower footsteps behind their's, undoubtedly Helen. Faintly, she heard Helen order Bobby and Matthew to their rooms. They stampeded up the stairs laughing, and banged the door to the room with a resounding _thump_. Annabeth winced at hearing her stepmother give her husband a quick kiss and exchange a few solemn words with him. She dreaded to find what those words would be.

"Annabeth!" Yelled her dad's voice. "Where's my eldest's hug?" There was a subtext to his voice also. One indicating that they would be having a very serious conversation. Grudgingly, Annabeth turned back to the Iris Message. She gave Percy a wry smile. The past two hours they had spent lamenting first, and then making hard efforts to exchange jokes to brighten their moods. It didn't work.  
"Well, gotta go." She told him."Love you Seaweed Brain."  
"Love ya Wise Girl."  
It wasn't easy to wave a hand through the screen, dissolving the connection.

Annabeth descended the stairs in the way one might in death row. Miserable and scared. She gave her father a quick hug, and followed him and Helen into the living room. For a few moments, they all just sat there staring at each other, daring one another to speak first. Eventually, Mr Chase cleared his throat.

"So, Annabeth. Helen told me about... What happened in my absence."

Helen nodded slightly, studying her stepdaughter blatantly. "The school texted about therapy following a certain incident of your's."

"What do _you_ think about therapy, dad?"

"I think that they may be able to put a stop to these nightmares, but considering your position and history, I think it's mostly just a waste of money because no _mortal_ could really help you. However, a demigod or somebody involved in _your_ world may be able to. What do you think we can do for you?"

"I could take a dip in the Lethe," Annabeth joked to lighten the mood, though, having seen firsthand the effects of such river, the joke developed a bitter taste on her tongue. She tried to hide her annoyance at the way in which her father had said, ' _your'_ world. Perhaps she could set up a shrine to Psyche, goddess of the human soul and such goddess would lend her guidance. Maybe if she gave her mother more offerings, Athena would swoop down from the heavens and make everything suddenly right again. Somehow, that was doubtable. Frederick forced a small laugh at Annabeth's half-hearted attempt at a joke.

"No, but seriously honey. What _can_ we do?"  
Annabeth frowned, thoughtfully. She didn't want to admit she needed help from anyone, in particular not her dad and stepmother but she realised that truthfully, she really did in such a situation. Like lightning, an idea flashed across Annabeth's mind. She started to smile and turned towards her parents. They needed to approve of this, because technically, Annabeth was still a chld and these were her legal guardians.

"I could go to Goode." Se said.


	25. Chapter 25

Frederick and Helen had at first been unwilling for Annabeth to attend Goode. The daughter of Athena had thrown out her suggestion and a silence had immediately ensued. Of course, Annabeth understood their doubt. It would be complicated, the change. One that should provide much deliberation and thought, rather than a 'spur of the moment' decision. Percy would be there, but could that influence her grades, couldn't it? Would she get distracted easily and 'carouse around with her delinquent of a boyfriend' too much, as Dan has so graciously put it. Mr Chase appeared conflicted between such reasons and his daughter's happiness. Eventually, he waved a hand at Annabeth, gesturing for her to leave whilst he and Helen discussed the matter. Annabeth was tempted to pout and stay to deliberate with them, but she decided that could push her luck.

Annabeth sashayed out of the room, her eyes twinkling. She was more than half tempted to go and tell Percy _now_ , but nothing was definite yet, and she didn't want to get either of their hopes up. Of course, she would have to leave her current school, which was no problem. The only irksome matter would be her peer's questions.

"Oy, where ya going Math head?" People would most likely say.

"None of your business _Meth_ head,"  
Whereupon her oppressor would most likely gasp, and she would roll her eyes. Weak insults. Though she may tell them about going to school with Percy to get them of her back, and they would reply with a crass comment or some innuendo. Or simply a taunting, "How romantic."  
Annabeth snorted, depicting these scenarios in her mind, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

Knocking lightly on the door of her brother's room, Annabeth weighed the probability of her going to Goode in her mind. Her dad would most likely vouch for her. Helen though, was another case. Since her previous outburst, Helen seemed to have smiled at her more in two hours than in Annabeth's entire life, but still, Annabeth wasn't certain how much support she would provide for her stepdaughter's decision.

"Yeah?" Came a voice from behind the oak door.

"It's Annabeth."

"Good. Can you help us with this Lego thing please?"

"Sure."

Annabeth pushed open the door and padded into the bedroom. To say it was a mess would have been an understatement. _Annabeth's_ room was a mess. This was more of a bombsite. The sheets on the beds were pulled back, the duvets half falling off their respective beds. The closet doors were thrown open, revealing a clutter of clothes strewn in a colourful disarray of shirts and trousers and jumpers and shoes and shorts and underwear so that Annabeth could not differentiate one article of clothing from the other. The desk wasn't recognizable beneath the clutter it played host to and the rug on the floor was thrown back against the wall, revealing a shedload of accumulated dust and dirty laundry. Annabeth wrinkled her nose as she walked in and made her way towards Bobby and Matthew, cautious not to step on any discarded pieces of Lego.

Her brother's were midway through constructing a - or rather trying to construct- a boat. Annabeth could help with that no problem. She recalled those long bitter months during Percy's disappearance, when one of the only things Annabeth had had the energy to do, other than mooch around camp looking miserable, was to take a stroll through the deadly woods to bunker nine, where Leo awaited her with open arms. They would spend the rest of the day there, Leo furiously building and Annabeth going over the notes, making improvements and coming up with new and improved designs, as well as pointing out little mistakes in the framework every now and then. And so she gladly accepted to help her brothers, tamping down the flood of bad memories that threatened to build up and burst the dams of her mind. It was alright. Percy was here. The war was over. _Leo_. No, she wouldn't think of Leo.

"You seem happier, Annabeth," Matthew noted, looking over at his sister who was absorbed in fixing up a stable bow, which was no easy feat in Lego.  
"Mhm?" She grunted, looking up momentarily. "I am?"

Matthew nodded. "A few hours ago you were screaming and crying."

Annabeth shot him a rueful glance as she put the last piece into place. "Well _Matthew_ , it so happens that earlier I was recounting to your mom about my summer and pretty much my entire life. And let me tell you, you would cry as well if you were in my place."

"I know, I heard your story."  
A silence settled over the trio. A deadly, poisoned one like a plague. Annabeth blinked back the tears in her eyes furiously, adamantly refusing to cry. Bobby however, was the most empathetic kid Annabeth had ever met, though annoying. He shot his sister and sidelong look and, at seeing her obvious distress, promptly walked around their model and wrapped his arms around her. Annabeth smiled a little a hugged him back.  
"So," He began, "Why were you so happy?"  
Annabeth gave a large shrug, but a small sparkle returned to her grey eyes. "Might move school. Go to Goode with Percy."

Bobby elbowed Matthew who was trying not to giggle and would soon be subjected to Annabeth's deluxe killer death stare.

"That's great," He told his sister. "Will that help?"

"I hope so," She said. "You know Bobby, I much prefer this version of you. Why don't you stay so nice and helpful, rather than being such an annoying little idiot?"

Bobby bowed. "It's the little brother's job ma'am."

Annabeth lobbed a pillow at him.

It was dinner by the time Annabeth, Bobby and Matthew finally completed the vessel. With the budding architect's help, the boat had gone from being a mediocre little ship with only the framework and the mast, to a fairly large _barque_ , with several different levels, a mess hall, a figure head, ballista, cabins, engine room and even little skiffs.

The children descended the stairs, Bobby and Matthew running for the pasta that awaited them, Annabeth lagging behind somewhat. Truly, she was anxious she would not be able to go to Goode, and that despite telling herself not to get her hopes up, to be now told she could not attend school with Percy would force her into a further state of misery. Nevermind, she would dwell on that later.

Annabeth ambled into the kitchen, her stomach growling, surveying the scene before her. Helen was at the kitchenette, dealing out bowls of spaghetti bolognese, Bobby was reading a discarded magazine on architecture (Dam, that was one of Annabeth's. She made a mental note to retrieve it), Matthew was doodling on the edge of an envelope and her dad was reading a letter no doubt from work. No one seemed inclined to lay the table, so Annabeth strolled over the the draws and began to fish out crockery. She laid them out on the table and came back for glasses and cutlery. Helen began to laugh.

"These men don't do anything!" She told her stepdaughter, "I think next time we woman should take a break and leave them to lay the table and cook."

Annabeth chuckled "I'm not sure if they can differentiate a fork from a spoon."

"Good point."

"Oy!" Protested Frederick, "I make excellent casserole. And I help everyday to lay the table."

Helen snorted. "Only if it concerns pizza."

She and her stepdaughter began to crack up.

Admittedly, Helen's food was amazing. She made simple spag bol taste Michelin Star. The chit-chat was kept to a minimum, as each person concentrated solely on how much food they could devour without choking. Eventually though, Mr Chase opened his mouth.

"Annabeth?"  
His daughter glanced up from shovelling food, and raised her eyebrows in a question. Frederick cleared his throat and looked warily at his wife, making Annabeth's stomach clenched as if the tightest belt had been tied around it. In the corner of her eye, she saw her brothers look up, curiosity branded on their faces.

"So... About Goode." Frederick began. He appeared to be searching in his mind for the right words to say, grasping with his hands inside his brain. It seemed as if the clock had slowed down. Each and every moment seemed to be slower, her dad drumming his hands on the table, Helen glancing down into her mug, Bobby taking a large bite of his food, Matthew turning a page in her magazine. Even the trees rustling outside, the bird taking flight outside. For one terrifying moment, Annabeth thought it was Kronos and her insides froze over. _Kronos._ The helicopter and the poisoned knife. Sleeping Manhattan and Sally and Paul and _gods,_ Luke, Percy about to become a god. That was to name a few.

"So. can I go?" Annabeth said, a little harsher than she meant to. Time suddenly sped up, back to normal. The page in her magazine rustled as Matthew turned it. Helen stirred her coffee thoughtfully, Bobby gagged on the large amount of food in his mouth. Frederick sighed.

"Yes. But on the condition that Percy doesn't _distract_ you too much."  
Annabeth decided not to ask what he meant by _distract._ Bobby and Matthew elbowed each other and began to giggle. So much for Bobby being kind and helpful. Still, Annabeth's face broke into a beam that spread around her face like water which cannot be controlled. Like love. Her countenance was twisted into happiness and passion. She jumped up and hugged her father and stepmother tightly.

"Oh gods. _Gods,_ gods. _Di Immortales_ thank you so much. When do I start?"

"Next week."

She began to talk rapidly, proclaiming her thanks and gratitude as her family stared at her blankly.

"What?" She demanded, suddenly brought back to earth.

"Honey," Her father said, "You were talking in ancient Greek."

"I was?"

"Yeah."

Annabeth bust out laughing. Laughing so hard it was almost delirious. It was something she sometimes did. When she began to fly and leave the ground and her mind was processing things too fast that she would lapse into Greek. And she laughed and laughed as her family shared alarmed looks, and finally one of her brothers got up and prodded her sharply and she stopped to smile wildly. Bobby turned to their parents.

"Guys. I don't think she's alright. Perhaps she needs help."

His sister stamped on his foot, and he grimaced in pain. "On second thoughts, she's fine."


	26. Chapter 26

"Argh!"

Annabeth jolted awake, basking in cold sweat, tears tracing their way down her cheeks. She was shivering, trembling. Fearfully, She peered into the darkness, her heart racing, searching for the demons in the shadows, the phantoms in the corner. Closing her eyes, Annabeth leant against her headboard, fearful of sleep and the ephialtes she would succumb to. Ephialtes worse than the giant. Nightmares that ambushed her as soon as her mind fogged over and she succumbed to sleep. On her eyelids, she saw embedded her dream.  
 _No. No no._

"Percy," Annabeth whimpered into the night. Gods, how weak was she? Without her boyfriend at her side she, could not function. Trying to control the tears, Annabeth fumbled in the dark for the glass prism she kept on her bedside table. She clicked her lamp on blindly and experimented with the glass, trying to make a rainbow. Eventually, she succeeded and pulled a Drachma out from her draw. Annabeth didn't want to contact Percy. This would be the third time she had Iris Messaged him that day, the first after her melt down and the second to break the news about Goode. Well, technically today was tomorrow so...

"O' Iris goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering." She tossed the silver coin into the dispersion of light, cursing her lack of willpower. "Show me Perseus Jackson, down-town Manhattan."

Instantaneously, she was rewarded with an image of a sleeping Percy. He lay on his side, his mouth parted, drooling in the way she, for some reason, found endearing. Perhaps it was because despite all his battles and his losses and his scars, it was a reminder that really, he was still only a kid. Only a kid, and that he should not have endured so much so young. There was a sudden cry on the other end of the line, and Percy trashed violently.

"Annabeth!"He whimpered. Annabeth clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. So, _so_ much she wanted to reach out and hold him but she could not. That would only mean cutting the connection.  
"Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth whisper yelled, her voice disjointed. Percy gave a small scream,  
"Annabeth!"  
"Oh _gods_ , Percy, wake up!"  
Her words must have worked because, before her eyes, Percy bolted up in bed and stared about himself, fear shining through his eyes like a whirlpool. He saw her through the Iris Message and blatantly tried to stop the tears pooling in his eyes. The green sea inside them was orbs of poison.

"Gods, Annabeth. Is that you?"

"No, it's Annabeth's doppelganger ," **(A/N: No idea how to do the dots on this keyboard so can't spell it properly. sorry).**

Percy cracked a smile, that immediately turned solemn "Nightmare?"

"Yep. Percy oh my gods, you were dead! And there was the Acheron and Nyx and Akhlys. Oh gods, Percy. Will the nightmares ever cease, I can't live like this!" Annabeth was trying to control the sobs.  
"I'm not sure Wise Girl." Percy was blinking furiously. "But you're coming to Goode now, so perhaps..."  
"College in New Rome after." Annabeth said with a small smile, trying to elevate her mood.

"We can share a flat can't we?"

"If my stepmother allows it," Annabeth said through a laugh, "You saw her agitation when you came over."  
Percy began to laugh, and the noise warmed Annabeth's heart. She grinned at Percy.  
"That's if Athena allows me to sleep with you," he said, then immediately reddened. "Gods of Olympus. No! I didn't mean that!"

Annabeth barely heard him though, she was rocking with laughter, choking on giggles as she tried to stifle them so as to not wake up her parents. She supposed that would be a first. To be not woken by Annabeth's screams but by her laughter. Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure you didn't mean that," She joked. Percy was shaking, trying to quell the howls of laughter.

"Fairly certain."  
Annabeth now understood why people laughed in delirious states. The tiredness and fear was weighing down on them, distorting their emotions so that all they could do was latch onto the other and hope that they did not fall.

There was a sudden movement in the hall outside, a footfall, the creak of a door, a faucet. Annabeth tensed suddenly, waiting for the footsteps to retreat.

"You okay?" Percy asked.  
"Yeah, I'm fine."  
"What time is it?"  
Annabeth checked her light up watch and stifled a gasp. "Dam it Seaweed Brain, it's four. Oh well."

The noise outside became louder, and Annabeth craned her neck towards the door. The footsteps passed her room.

"I'm kinda hungry though Perc-"  
Annabeth heard a small gasp outside, and light footfalls returning to her bedroom door. Another voice joined she and Percy's conversation.

"Annabeth Chase. If I walk In and find Percy in there with you, you are grounded for eternity." Said a familiar, feminine voice. Annabeth presently began to laugh.  
"Don't worry Helen. I'm just Iris Messaging him."

The door was wrenched open with a bang, showing Helen framed in the entrance glowering, scanning the room for a hidden Percy. She clicked the light on and advanced towards her stepdaughter. Helen breathed a sigh of relief, and sat besides Annabeth.

"Are you okay Annabeth?"  
Annabeth shuddered. "I'm alright, just a nightmare."  
"Okay. Well, you should try to sleep anyway. Both of you."

"Bu-"

"Annabeth, otherwise you'll fall asleep again at school. You can keep the message up."

"Who cares?" Annabeth muttered bitterly, "They all know about my nightmares anyway."

"Just try, okay? I'll text the school, ask if you can have a reduced timetable this last week."  
"Seriously?"  
"Yeah. You can come in at half ten."  
"I guess. Okay."

Helen left the room, leaving Annabeth and Percy blinking in surprise.

"I guess a little sleep would be nice." Percy murmured, and promptly began to snore. Annabeth smiled tenderly at him, before snuggling back into the covers and drifting into a deep, dark sleep.

Annabeth awoke to her alarm's incessant beeping. She groaned, and sat up in bed, startled to find a window hanging in the air before her, giving her the familiar view of Percy's bedroom. Momentarily, she was confused, looking at the rumbled sheets in the bed before her intently, trying to place the night before. Oh yes, the nightmare. The talk with Percy and Helen. Speaking of which... Annabeth turned to look at her clock. Nine, it read. Huh? Helen must have changed it last night. Ugh. Did she _have_ to get up?

"Annabeth!" Called a voice from downstairs. Yes, she did. Groaning, Annabeth traipsed downstairs still in her pyjamas to where Helen waited by the door, clearly about to leave for work.

"'Morning." Annabeth yawned.

"Morning Annabeth. There is a bus at ten which you may want to take, your dad left some money on the table for the fare. I've already phoned the school.

"Thanks."

"See you later." And with that, the door slammed shut and Annabeth was left alone. She couldn't help but smile. She turned on the radio and poured herself a bowl of Frosties and some juice. Then she pulled on a coat and stepped out into the crisp morning air or the garden. The grass looked silver from the dew. Glistening like the sea at dawn. She sat down at the picnic table and took the advantage of being able to prop her feet up on the wood. Around her, she could hear the sounds of Manhattan in the morning. The sky above was overcast but mesmerising, the clouds peering down to earth in several startling hues of grey. She wondered if this was what Percy saw when he commented her eyes a beautiful. A fierce thunderstorm or eyes like a graveyard. She guessed it depended on her mood.

Annabeth withdrew a magazine from her pocket and began to read slowly. Peaceful and serene, which was odd in a city. The booklet in her hands was on architecture. The same one Matthew had been so engrossed with last night, or rather, she soon found, had taken delight on scribbling stupid words and drawings around it. Annabeth made a mental note to find his comics and pay him back. She always had thought superman would look better with a long white beard and a tutu. Chuckling, Annabeth drained the last of her juice, spooned her cereal (No milk. Milk was disgusting),and heaved herself up. She went up to her room and surveyed her closet with a grin. This was the last week. Four more days, and she would be with Percy. Annabeth chose an outfit, pulled it on and smiled at her reflection.

"I'm okay." She told herself. **(A/N: Just as I was listening to I'm not okay by mcr. Sorry for this chapter being so short.)**


	27. Chapter 27

Annabeth was yawning when she stepped onto the musty, smelly bus. It was emptier that usual, perhaps owing to the fact that rush hour was long gone, and so she had the first pick of the seats. Much to her chagrin, as soon as she slid into her chosen one, a large middle aged woman slipped in alongside a her. Seriously? A whole bus of empty seats and she had to sit besides Annabeth. Huffing, Annabeth pulled out her book and began to read, carefully writing down each word that she could not understand.

Eventually, she began to feel dizzy and pulled out her phone instead. Like a nosy old hag, The woman besides her shifted, and peered over curiously. Okay, that was rude. Never mind. Annabeth ignored her. She smiled fondly at her home screen, which depicted a picture of she and Percy well, kissing. Underwater. The photo itself was courtesy of The Stolls. Annabeth had no idea how they had taken such a picture without either She or Percy's knowledge, but her best bet was that they had whipped up an underwater camera and pulled a little Hermes magic. She had only found out about the photo when she was strolling through the camp, barely half an hour later, and saw Connor and Travis darting towards the big house laughing mischievously. Annabeth had followed curiously, and been blessed with the sight of a laughing Chiron as he pinned the picture to his wall.

A sudden noise of a cleared throat shook Annabeth from her reverie. She blinked, realising she had been staring for about five minutes, and felt suddenly awkward. Glancing ruefully up at the woman, she tilted her phone towards her and clicked on 'Photos.' With a nostalgic smile, Annabeth scrolled through the myriad of photos stored on her cell phone, scanning each one. Most showed her the smiling faces of the Seven or of she and Percy. There were selfies with Pipes and Hazel and ridiculous ones of funny faces and Leo photo bombing picture after picture. Dammit, she missed her friends.

Annabeth was so saturated by thought that she almost missed her stop and would have, if not for the woman besides her who gently nudged the demigod and said,

"Alright girl, if I were you, I would stop reminiscing old times and get off the bus now because the high school's here and it's most likely your stop. You're late enough as it is."

Annabeth glanced up in surprise and gave a start. The old woman was right, it was her stop. She cursed in Greek. Quickly thanking her companion, Annabeth leapt up and dashed off the bus, school bag in tow.

Annabeth sauntered into period two Maths with her hands in her pockets and a casual stance about her. She ignored the curious glances thrown in her direction, and instead lazily strolled over to the front, where she handed her teacher the receptionists note, excusing her from detention because of a reduced timetable. Mr Hayle nodded, and signalled for her to assume her chair. Yawning, Annabeth did so, and proceeded to unpack her notebook and pencil case from her bag. The work the class was doing was easy. Simple algebra which provided no strain on Annabeth's mind. She worked through the questions easily, and once done resorted to doodling in the margins. Until her teacher rolled his eyes and took the empty seat besides her.

"Are you finished Miss Chase?"

"I guess."

"Hmm, okay. I'll write up an extension on the board."

Annabeth looked mildly horrified. "No, don't stress yourself sir, it's fine."

Mr Hayle's hazel eyes twinkled in amusement.

"I understand you're leaving, Miss Chase, but that does not mean you can become lazy with your school work."

Unfortunately, he said it loud, so the whole class looked up.

"You're leaving?" Someone asked.

"How come?" Another voice piped up. Annabeth groaned, and cupped her head in her hands. These kids didn't care if she was leaving. They were just curious. She shot her maths teacher a discreet glare.

When the bell finally, Annabeth ensured she was out of the class as quick as lightning. She threw her utensils into her bag and darted through the door ahead of her peers. Unfortunately, that didn't deter them. A band of popular kids cornered Annabeth as she was working at her locker, stowing various pieces of equipment into her rucksack.

"Oy, Geek Freak!" Annabeth rolled her eyes and turned to them with a faked, sickly sweet smile.

"You want something?"

"Why you leaving?"

"It may be just me, but that is none of your concern."

"Don't get feisty."

Annabeth gave them a poisoned smile, and turned back to her locker, where she was busy tucking her phone and book into her pockets.

"I'm leaving because I'm sick of this school and the likes of you."

"That's rude. What school are you going to."

"You know, I'm touched that someone takes so much care about me. But, alas, sorry, that is none of your business."

One of the kids snorted, and assumed a confused expression. "Alas?"

"Look it up, thick head."

Annabeth was already tired of all the questions by the time she walked into period four, which was Architecture, and the only class she liked in this gods forsaken hellhole. In the short space of two hours, she had been bombarded by so many inquiries and crass remarks that she could probably have sat down all day to count them on her fingers and twenty four hours still would not be accommodating.

Making haste to close the doors of her ears, Annabeth slipped into her seat at the front of the class and sat up straight, ready for the lesson. Mrs Manar, who ran the architecture elective, was the nicest teacher in the school. She was kind and funny, though centred on her work and love of teaching. To the regular person she seemed young and carefree with her fluffy brown hair and tall, lean body, however Annabeth knew different. Like many of her demigod friends, and Annabeth herself, her dark eyes bore a hard, shattered look, as though she had seen and felt things that had damaged her irreparably. This was one of the reasons Annabeth liked Mrs Manar so much. She felt remotely understood.

Mrs Manar smiled as she strode to the front of the class and surveyed her students almost fondly. She gestured for them to get up and go to the work stations. The class already knew what to do. The last weeks they had been working in small groups on a project to design and build the best replica of a famous building out of Lego. It wasn't the most original or fun of tasks, but the winning team got a free trip to Nandos, so the class was taking got very seriously. For a fleeting moment, Annabeth felt a little regret that she would be unable to complete the model. Still, being with Percy beat a Nandos any day.

Group seven, Annabeth's group, convened at work station three. Lucy carefully hoisted up their model and placed it on the tabletop, holding it as if it were a newborn baby. So far, their structure was the definitely the best. That was to say: Annabeth, Lucy, Matt and Miles' structure. Lucy was short and slightly chubby. She was pale with fiery red hair and a spray of cute freckles beneath her deep, brown eyes. Matt was the complete opposite. Tall, lean and dark skinned with startling Heterochromia. One eye was a piercing blue, the other a softer green, and finally Miles, who was somewhere in between. He was medium height, with slightly tanned skin and a mop of brown hair obscuring hazel eyes. The four of them were dedicated and skilled and the only remotely nice people in the entire school.

"So, Annabeth." Matt began, momentarily looking up from their stack of notes, "Heard you're leaving. Is that true?"

"Yeah, at the end of the week. It's not a big deal."

Lucy glanced away from their half finished replica of the Empire State Building and pouted.

"What? Why?" She whined."You're the best architect here."

"No I'm not. But thanks." Annabeth replied.

"Why are you going?" Miles asked. Annabeth shrugged and returned back to her work, trying to ignore the fact that she was building this place. Out of all the landmarks in the entirety of the Unites States, they had been assigned the palace of the gods. Or what was directly beneath it anyhow. She recalled being with Percy here. With Grover. With Thalia. Of meeting the gods and claiming gifts and parties and battling a Titan. Oh gods.

"Hello... Earth to Annabeth Chase?" The voice of Miles said.

"Mhm?"

"Why are you leaving?"

Annabeth sighed deeply and put down the paper she had been studying with a thump.

"Oh, I'm not sure. Maybe because I hate this dump and the people here are jerks? I'm going to Goode."

"Isn't that where, what's his name, Peter? Goes." Lucy asked.

"Percy."

Miles and Matt frowned. "Who's Percy?" Matt asked, his hands toying with a few blocks of Lego.

"Her boyfriend." Lucy said. Miles fixed Annabeth with an incredulous stare.

"You have a boyfriend!?"

Annabeth sighed again. "Yes I do. And frankly, I am offended at your disbelief. Now can we please just concentrate on the task at hand please and thank you very much."

By the time the end of the lesson came around, group seven's model was almost completed. The bell rang and the students clamoured to get out of the door laughing and chatting as the need for lunch called to them. Annabeth joined the throng, though with significantly less enthusiasm as she knew this lunch time would be another one spent holed up in the library, reading and not having anyone to talk to. She was almost out the door when a voice said,

"Miss Chase? Could you stay a minute?"

Why in Hades did this always happen to her? Groaning, Annabeth pushed away from the crowd, and stood awkwardly by the wall, waiting for the last stragglers to disappear. She turned to Mrs Manar and forced a smile.

"You want to talk to me about something?"

"Yeah, I heard you're leaving."

Annabeth gaped. Sure, she had expected a few odd questions, some remarks on her going but not this. How fast exactly did news travel? Perhaps this was some trick of Hermes.

"Well, yeah. On Friday."

"I'll be sad to see you go. You're a great architect."

"Thank you. Also thank you for your classes. I think I would've gone insane without them."

Mrs Manar laughed. "I think I would've gone insane as well if I couldn't teach. It helps me keep my peace."

"Excuse me when I say this Miss, I understand of this is an intrusion of your privacy, but I know you've seen horrors in your life. I was wondering if I could do anything for you." As soon as she said it, Annabeth put a hand to her mouth. She began to get up, flustered.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry. I'm ADHD I didn't mean to say- oh gods I'm so sorry." She made for the door, burning with embarrassment.

"Stop." Mrs Manar ordered. "You said gods."

"Oh. Well, yeah. It's a cultural thing, it's nothing."

"Sit back down."

Warily, Annabeth slid back into her seat. "I really have to-"

"You're a daughter of Athena aren't you?"

"Is any teacher here even a mortal for the love of the gods?"

"You were part of the seven weren't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"I knew I had seen your name before! You crawled through Tartarus didn't you? You and Jackson. You led two wars. You succeeded the Labyrinth and held up the sky. Oh, your story is legendary."

Annabeth began to tremble. "Yes." She snapped. "Yes, gods, and I really don't need reminding."

Mrs Manar looked like she'd been slapped across the face. "Oh my dear girl. I'm sorry. I should understand, people always do that to me. They say my eyes are shattered like glass."

"Who are you exactly?"

"I'm a halfblood. A child of Aphrodite."

"Of course you are. Say, can I go to lunch now?"

Annabeth ate her lunch in silence. When earlier she had been yearning for a slice of pepperoni, now the food wasn't quite so appealing, and developed a bitter taste in her mouth. She fumbled in her pocket for her phone, and stared at the home screen, her heart aching with longing. It was annoying, she thought. First her principal was a monster, then her next a demigod. The goddess Athena, her mother, had appeared to her during a school trip, there was Martini who resembled one of Hades's furies, and though she wasn't one, she sure acted like it, and now Mrs Manar. A child of Aphrodite. She just wanted to go back to Camp Half Blood already. To scale the lava wall and eat in the pavilion and walk on the beach with Percy in be evening and win games of Capture The Flag and do archery and canoeing and sword fighting and music and Greek.

There was a sudden voice behind her.

"Who's that Math Head?" There it was. That terribly witty and original nickname.

"Who's who Meth Head?" Annabeth said, turning around to face Ella, captain of the cheerleader team, groupie for for the school band, most popular girl the the school and all round bitch. And of course, she had had it in for Annabeth since day one of high school. She hadn't come on the school trip deeming it 'ridiculous','stupid' and, 'babyish'z

"The hot guy in your home screen."

Holy Hephaestus, what was the deal with this school?

"No one. None of your business."

Ella laughed her sugary, knife sharp giggle. Her followers echoed it. Without warning, she snatched the mobile suddenly from Annabeth's hand.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"Nope."

Annabeth decided to sit and wait for Ella to be done with her taunting. She didn't fancy fighting her for a cell phone, and didn't fancy getting into further trouble following a fight either. Ella would give back, she wasn't a thief.

"Oh would you look at this photo?" Ella jeered. "Who are these people Math Head? Mommy and daddy? The couple from your book which you ship so hard?"

"No." Annabeth snapped, furiously trying to contain her rage. Ella looked at the picture closely. Of the boy with the raven hair and the girl with the mane the colour of sunshine. The way the light caught the water around this in a display of colours so beautiful, it could have been painted.

"Wait." Ella said, "No way. Is the girl you!?"

Annabeth flushed scarlet. "Maybe. Give me back my phone now."

"I think I'll wait a bit." Ella said. She clicked on photos and began to scroll through them. She gasped every now and then. Sometimes zoomed in on Frank's mid riff (why?) or Percy's face. Annabeth gritted her teeth. She lunged for her phone, and clawed it out of Ella's grasp. Ella laughed, and massaged her hand.

"Next time you see your boyfriend Math Head. Tell 'im hi from me."

Annabeth was exhausted by the time she has slotted her key into the lock and padded into the hallway.

"I'm home!" She called to no one in particular.

"Hey honey," her father's voice called from the kitchen. "Nice day at school?"

Annabeth snorted. "No. Not really."

She strolled into the kitchen and to the fridge. Her dad was sitting at the table eating a bowl of chips and reading and aviation magazine. He offered his daughter a fry and put down the magazine and smiled at Annabeth, who had slid into her chair heavily and let loose a deep sigh.

"So. What was so bad?"

"Just the usual insults from kids, Ella taking my phone and going through my camera roll and you know, just my architecture teacher telling me she knows who I am, what I have done and that she's a child of Aphrodite damn it."

"She's a what!?"

Annabeth waved her fry in the air nonchalantly. "A demigod."

"You want to watch a film?" Mr Chase asked, producing from his large coat pockets and copy of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'

Annabeth grinned. She loved watching a movie with her dad. When she and Frederick would curl up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn between them and watch a cheesy romcom from the forties or fifties.

"I always do."

(A/N: So I'm going away for two weeks, and I won't have wifi or technology, so I will not be able to post a new chapter for around 2 weeks)


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer cos I've barely done it: Bonjour mon petit croissants, j'ai retournee de la France hier (how's the French?) so yeah. I don't own the PJO series or any of Rick's numerous vast array of books. Only my OCs. ?

The last week of school had flown by, and now, on Saturday morning, Annabeth was busy throwing in her towel and snacks into a beach bag. It was time for their monthly reunion, and being a warm and sunny day, the Seven had all agreed to meet at the beach. And because it was Saturday, Annabeth, Piper and Hazel - having gotten leave from the legion - were prepared for a sleepover at the 'holiday house' Piper's father had bought some years ago in The Big Apple. So Annabeth felt rather happy.

There was the sudden blare of a horn. Annabeth may have jumped, but there was no one except the dancers on the TV set as testimony. She smiled broadly- a grin that lit up her face like a dazzling steak of sunlight- , gathered up her bag and made for the door with a loud shout to her father upstairs in his study that she would see him the next the day.

The door creaked slightly as she opened it and made her way down the gravel path to a blue Prius parked before the dilapidated fence of her front garden. Looking out through an open window was the jovial faces of Percy and Piper, the former on the steering wheel and the latter looking very comfortable in shotgun with her feet on the dashboard and a pack of Lay's crisps in her hands. The packet crinkled as she waved a hand to her friend. Annabeth beamed at them and pressed a kiss to Percy's cheek.

"Do I get a kiss?" Piper complained, looking behind her to where Annabeth was sliding into the back seat, already reaching out for the chips on the seat beside her. Annabeth quirked an eyebrow at her friend.

"If you really want," She said, her tone light and joking.

"Never mind, I've changed my mind."

On their journey to the beach, they made various different stops. The first was to pick up Hazel, who was standing on the corner of Fifth Avenue on front of DKNY (A/N: don't judge my knowledge of New York. Never been.), amiably conversing with a middle aged woman who was eating a large piece of chicken. She said goodbye to said person and ducked quickly into the Prius before they could start a traffic jam. After that, they picked up Frank who was by the Chrysler Building and finally made a stop by Camp Half-Blood to collect Jason, who swaggered up the hill clad in a loud tropical number and blue Tribord swim shorts. Chiron accompanied him, frowning slightly.

"Annabeth," the old centaur began. Annabeth started, and glanced around to meet his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I heard you're going to school with Percy."

"Well, yeah."

"That could be risky. You know that don't you, child? You're the most powerful demigods of the millennia. Both of you. That would attract an awful lot of... Monsters."

Annabeth smiled reassuringly at him and put a hand to his arm. "We'll be fine. Most powerful demigods of the millennia," she tilted her head. "Not without a reason."

Percy, Annabeth, Piper, Jason, Hazel and Frank sped down the highway clinging onto each other for dear life. Percy was a good driver, there was no doubt about that, but he cranked the gear up to about one hundred and forty miles an hour, and it was all the seven could do to keep their stomachs from staying in the metropolitan hubbub of Manhattan. Perhaps, that was a slight exaggeration.

The wind flooded into the car, thrashing and roaring like an angry beast. It whipped their hair around their heads and, together with the music that pounded through their veins, veiled them from all reality and the monsters it was encumbered with. The children- because really, for all the quests they had braved and the wrath that had been wrought on them like an icy fist they were no more than youths - laughed and sang and roared with elation as they cruised the roads and danced through the automobiles and felt the joy. The joy. The simple, sheer, raw joy of living and breathing and feeling and loving and cursing and dancing in the rain as the storm clouded around them and the rain pricked their skin like icy axes. Because they were alive. And they would never take that for granted again.

The car screeched to a halt and the Seven jerked forwards suddenly. Then tumbled right out of the car onto the soft, sandy ground. The sun beat down hard on their backs, a hammer of heat and fire and perspiration but also a flood of happiness. Of happy memories. Of waves as they kissed the shore and slithered away. Of the golden hour and the honeyed light it sent, such light that wound its way into the deepest, most hidden corners and slowly the world would morph from a bright, noisy place to a hazy, surreal landscape. A landscape that sang ballads of serenity and of tranquility and the melody was so sweet - so pure it was as if Orpheus himself was strumming on the lyre and bringing down beautiful, such beautiful serenades that the whole world stopped and listened and smiled as the sun and the play of light caressed their hair like tender hands and their shadows chased behind them as they walked, their gait slow and wistful.

Annabeth laughed as she picked herself up off the floor and onto her feet, dusting the soil off her legs. She laughed again and stretched out a hand to Piper, who was lying prostate beside her. Together, they unhinged the surfboard from the car's roof and aided the rest of their company as they emptied the boot of the beach towels and the rackets and the picnic hamper and the blankets and other various bits and bobs they had taken.

Annabeth had never seen Percy so excited. He looked like a little boy again, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he drank in the sunlight and chatted to Jason at his side. He was obviously anxious to get into the sea. To sprint into the cerulean blue waves and to let the brine wash away every problem which ran around his mind. He may be good in the pool, but the sea was his home. Annabeth turned to Piper and Hazel who stood at her side, grimacing at the hot sand beneath their feet but grinning as they shed their clothes to reveal bright swimming costumes underneath. Annabeth wasn't surprised to find that whilst she and Piper wore bikinis, Hazel wore a one-piece. The girl took one look at them and assumed the most scandalised expression she had ever seen.

"What in Hades are you wearing!?" She hissed at them. Piper and Annabeth glanced at each other and presently Annabeth began to feel the joyous feeling of laughter creep up her throat.

"Times have changed since the forties," she told he younger friend "We call these bikinis."

Hazel looked agog. "No. We call it undergarments."

Piper put an arm around Hazel. "You still have a lot to learn." She said before taking off running into the water, only just behind Percy, who was thankfully sporting a sensible pair of blue, leaf patterned trunks rather than the disgraceful pair he had donned at the residential.

Annabeth smiled and followed her companions down the beach, Hazel at her side, still looking a little shocked at Annabeth's chosen beach wear. The water was cold, but bracingly so, so that it was crisp and clean and beautiful. It lapped around Annabeth's ankles, hugging her exposed legs, calling to her from its depth. Gritting her teeth against the cold, Annabeth waded further into the briny, the waves reaching up to her waist, her stomach, her breast. Some metres ahead, Percy was throwing his head back in laughter as he rejoiced in the sea. In the simplicity of just being able to feel the tingling of the salt water on his skin and the the feel of the seaweed slithering around his legs and to fall back and cut through waves like a boat.

Something in Annabeth's heart melted, and such a feeling of tenderness filled her body; of love so powerful it felt like she was slowly unfolding. Being laid out bare for the world to see, and the love and emotions that uncoiled itself inside her, and the passion and the fire that held her hand as she walked in this empty and barren land. She hadn't realised Percy was before her until she felt icy, gentle fingers entwine through her's, and an arm pull her deeper on towards the far horizon.

"Come on Wise Girl," Percy said. "The water's great once your in."

Annabeth's teeth chattered but she smiled and allowed herself to be led on.

"I'll just get in in my own time."

She dipped a hand in the fresh water and rubbed the back of her neck with it, 'Where the shock is,' Percy had once told her. Then she took a deep breath and slipped into the sea, allowing herself to be submerged completely.

The water was cold. Cold, numbing, frigid. Yet despite this, it was fresh and clean and crisp and so, so divine. It was alluring and beguiling if she were permitted the liberty to describe water in such a way. Annabeth wanted to sink to the bottom. To just sit there and open her eyes and the salt wouldn't sting them and she could look about herself and breathe in deeply as Percy could, and to allow herself to stay there forever, in the darkest and deepest depths, the most peaceful and serene place she had ever found herself in. Underneath the surface of the effulgent sheen of the water, she could see why drowning was described as the best way to die. Because although it was asphyxiating and choking and suffocating, the world seemed diluted. The noise quelled to a still silence, a silence that was so intricate and bewitching it seemed to be a finely woven quilt. Drowning was quite simply... Peaceful. Like one was falling asleep, lulled into a state of slumber. A state no more than a mere slumber. Except one more permanent. And without the nightmares.

Annabeth came up for air gasping a little. She felt the oxygen flood through her lungs and her veins. It was empowering and energising and in that instant, Annabeth felt as if she could do anything. This must be how Percy felt every time he swam. It was a little like a drug, she guessed. Percy laughed at her side.

"Cold?" He asked. Annabeth shivered and flashed him a grin that split her face in half. "Only a little."

A few hours later, after a satisfying picnic, a half-hearted attempt at volleyball and a long swim, Annabeth found herself and Hazel trailing after Piper towards a little dilapidated shack. They were about to have their first surfing lesson, taught by no other than their trusty friend Piper Mclean, and were making their way towards a little shop which hired out wetsuits and surfboards. Piper seemed to be bordering on ecstasy, skipping up to the store manager and proclaiming loudly, with a startling air of superiority, their desired equipment. She probably hadn't meant to use Charmspeak, but even so, the guy's eyes glazed over as he sized up his clients and handed them the accordingly sized wet suits (Which Hazel approved much more of). Annabeth disappeared into a little stall as she wriggle into the tight garment. It was warm and thick, the sleeves up to the elbow and the legs to the knees. A patch of blue beneath the arm pits and bordering the neckline emphasised the otherwise black coloured fabric. Annabeth picked at it and admired the way it was made. Cleverly done, thermal and waterproof (Obviously, she guessed), easy to move in and restricted water from filling it up like a balloon. The Kalenji lable was peeling, indicating signs of use, but the suit itself was clean and dry. Annabeth smiled and stepped out of the stall.

Hazel and Piper met her outside. They were busy juggling between hauling two surfboards out of a large metal rack and forking over a wad of money to the store keeper, who disappeared through the door to his shack whistling.

"Wetsuit comfy?" Piper inquired, wincing as the tail of the board hit the ground with a thump, sending up a flurry of sand. Annabeth nodded, watching as Hazel hoisted up the board and tucked it awkwardly under her arm, indicating with her head for Annabeth to do the same with the other red surfboard which lay idly on the ground. She hoisted it up and followed her friends who were already making their way back to the Seven's patch. Once there, Piper grabbed her own board and motioned to the girl's to follow her to the shoreline. Unlike Jason and - surprisingly- Frank, who were tanning in the sun, Percy was sitting patiently on the rocks, his feet swaying in the cool water. He nodded at them and took a deep breath before furrowing his brow in concentration. Before Annabeth's eyes, a wave, slightly larger than its comrades rose up out of the water, proud like a king or a mighty lion. Percy looked at Piper with his eyebrows raised questioningly. Piper nodded, and instantaneously several more waves appeared behind the former, which was now at its peak, its crest a foamy white that raced across the water's surface. There was the sound of movement behind them as Jason raised his head to peer curiously out at them. His eyes widened and he grinned at them. He blew Piper a kiss.

Piper, after grinning at her boyfriend and sending him a kiss back, waded into the water until it came up to her hips. Her eyes sparkled under the sun, shining like crystal, alternating between shades of purple and of blue and green and brown. It was such a look that Leo had often commented on. The look she got whoever she looked upon Jason and Annabeth found her friend's happiness intoxicating; contagious. Percy, in the corner of her eye, winked and motioned her besides him on the rock. Annabeth shook her head and held up her hand in a gesture that told him she would go to him after this lesson. Percy pouted in that cute way that made her brain melt inside her, and before Annabeth what had hit her, a current swirled around her and pushed her towards Percy on the rocks, who's gorgeous eyes were laughing almost as much as his mouth.

"Percy!" She shrieked at him, very much aware of Piper and Hazel who were cracking up with laughter somewhere behind her as she was delivered onto a very wet rock at his side. Percy slid an arm around Annabeth's shoulder.

"Hate to interrupt the start of a fascinating surfing lesson," He began, "But I needed something first."

Annabeth rolled her eyes at him. "Fine." She tilted her head up then and pressed a kiss to his mouth and if the water before had drowned out her senses, it was nothing to this. The world did not simply fade, it vanished. Crumbled away like sand through her fingers and Annabeth found that she did not care. A sort of fire trace her lips where hers and Percy's met and where his hands touched her head and when the sound and the feeling of the rocks and the water at their feet suddenly stopped and all she felt was fire. A passion in the form of a flame and a flickering ember taking hold of her body. Possessive and territorial, almost feral like a beast. All she wanted was to rake her hand through the tousled black waves that was his hair and to drink in the goblet of love and joy and euphoria which had been placed before her. She drank and drank and drank until she was intoxicated and dizzy and nauseated on the sheer, mountainous amount of adoration and of love and love and love she was inhaling like a drug. Of this raw thing presented to her and the lips on hers and just the feeling of wings on her back and the feeling of dancing and laughing and the headache and the schizophrenia and the illusions that spun around her and she felt like she was dying yet she felt so, so alive, and that all that was keeping her from falling was Percy. And gods, Percy who was her lifeline and her anchor and the veil around her from this world and they were latched on together because if they let go they would fall and fall and fall.


	29. Chapter 29

The Seven piled into the car wet, tired and very, very happy. Unlike the last time, Annabeth slid into shotgun besides Percy at the wheel, leaving the other four to suffer, squashed in the back. She hoisted her feet up onto the dashboard and idly ran her hand over the radio, indecisive; tentative, feeling as though any brush of the fingertips, and click of a button could deactivate a nuclear weapon. Annabeth guessed this was the fault of her experience. Of the dangerous arms she had used and slaughtered with. Or perhaps with the crane and Cacus, the time barely more than a year ago with Hermes's spear. Across from her, Percy took one hand from the steering wheel and slipped her a Twenty Øne Piløts disc, which she gladly slipped into the CD slot. Almost instantaneously, a heart-wrenching, almost melancholy ode pumped from the stereo and filled her ears and took her and cast her in its shadow and whisked her away and away and away.

She was shaken from her reverie when Percy's cool fingers laces through her's. Startled, she glanced up and slipped him a smile. A private smile, a mere whisper or a secret; a personal exchange and gesture filled with love and passion and emotions brimming on its lips and the red, red tint of the mouth compatible with the scarlet shade of the heart. No one else saw the smile. No one else felt the love which flew between them like sparks of electricity as they flew down the highway. The fire where their fingers touched and those embers - those embers which never died as their knees touched lightly and they silently and privately traded emotions which coursed through their veins and ran as deep as the rivers of the underworld.

Piper was good at singing. If there had been any doubt about such a fact before, that uncertainty was now disproven with a tumultuous gasp and five companions staring almost hungrily at the daughter of Aphrodite. Hungry for the voice, the purity that leaked from her mouth and the clear, sharp notes that wove themselves into a tapestry to make a melody that warped all reality. As the Prius darted through an endless labyrinth of streets and towering skyscrapers, Piper sang along to to the music, oblivious to the shock which played host to each person in sundry. Her voice seemed to cut like a blade, splicing the very air around them, resonating, reverberating, resounding in the little cramped space that was this vehicle. The soft tune of Trapdoor carried in the wind, and soon the wind was freighted with ambition and possibility. With power and beauty and authority. When the song was done, she turned to Annabeth at the front.

"Hey, got any chips?- What? Why are you all staring?"

She was answered with a silence. A silence that thrashed and roared like an angry lion. After a few moments, Jason finally spoke and it shattered like glass.

"Damn Piper," He said, "We knew you could sing, but not like that."

Piper blinked, then smiled. She tossed her hair. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

After another half hour, the car drew up before a rustic, old red-brick townhouse - more of a mansion really- on the lower side of Manhattan. It was very beautiful and very, very large.

"Aight ladies," Percy said as he swivelled in his seat, "Your stop. Next stop: My mom's apartment for us guys."

Jason peered out of the window and let out a low whistle. "Nice house, Pipes."

Piper blushed red. It was easy to forget sometimes, that Piper's dad was none other than the famous Tristan McLean, King of Sparta, and that she was, to put it blatantly, absolutely stinking rich.

Annabeth squeezed Percy's hand one last time, flashed him a smile - that smile belonging solely to two people who loved and understood each other above all else - and stepped out of the car, her bag in tow. Whilst Piper was accommodated besides the door, Hazel was squished between Jason and Frank, and so was faced with a rather pressing predicament. She shouldered her rucksack and groaned as she readied herself for a clamber over the boys, who each whimpered in turn as the daughter of Pluto scrambled over them, elbowing Jason first as she heaved herself up, then tripping over Frank's bulk and out onto the sidewalk. Piper caught her by the strap of her bag and righted her friend.

"Don't miss us too much!" Percy yelled as he gunned the engine and sped off down the tarmac road.

"We won't!" Piper shouted after the retreating boot. Annabeth said nothing.

The girls walked up the path to the front door with a spring to their step. Annabeth felt happy and fulfilled after their day spent swimming and surfing and frolicking in the golden sunlight. She watched as Piper drew a key from her pocket and gently pushed the door open, motioning for her friends to follow. They trailed behind her in wonder. Annabeth halted suddenly in the hallway and Hazel, who had followed behind her, crashed on Annabeth's back. Annabeth loosed a breath and stared about herself. The house was absolutely beautiful. The floorboards bore no sign of carpet, revealing a mahogany floor so polished she could see her reflection in it. The stairs were before them, and led up to the next story and, as Annabeth could see from the obvious marks in the ceiling, another floor above. Probably another one beyond it too. She trod carefully down the hallway and into the room at the end of the passage. The hallway wove its way to huge room at the end of the corridor which must have served as a ballroom in times before when woman danced in swaths of silk and men doffed their hats and extended their hands and spun and spun and spun. Annabeth stopped still in the doorframe and gaped. It had large floor-to-ceiling windows and a little alcove lined with a cushioned bench. The floor was clear save for the lavish velvet sofas at the side, the walls littered with beautiful mirrors and enthralling paintings, the ceiling adorned with chandeliers, gold and shining. There was a luscious garden beyond, illuminated in the fading light by mock oil-lamps on the sizeable veranda. Two shadows joined Annabeth at her side.

"Like it?" Whispered the familiar voice of Piper in her ear.

"Love it," Annabeth breathed. She stared at the ballroom and imagined music floating around them, filling up every corner and crack of the room, imagined dancing here with Percy, eyes closed, pressed as close as a door kissing the doorframe. She could almost feel the way his calloused hands held her as they moved around the room with the grace only earned from years of either dance or that of fighting.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder.

"Come one," Piper's voice said again, "I'll introduce you to my dad, then we can go up to my room."

Annabeth did not want to leave the ballroom, but she allowed herself to be led away down the corridor and gently guided up the stairs. Up, up, up. So high she thought they would hit the sky.

Piper raised a hand and turned a polished doorknob of an oak door. It creaked open and Annabeth and Hazel followed a little nervously. They padded into another room. Another room that knocked Annabeth's breath away. One that made elation rise inside her and euphoria fill every pore in her body and all she wanted to do was to stare and stare and stare.

It was a library.

And it was huge.

Mahogany bookshelves freighted with books - books battered and old, books new and shining, Dickens and Rowling and mysteries and thrillers and classics and YA and anything Annabeth could have desired. It was true, Annabeth was dyslexic, but such a matter was trivial when it came to reading. A sort of jealousy settled on Annabeth's heart. How she would love a library so like this one in her house. Piper glanced backwards and took in her expression.

"Take any book you want," she told her friend. Annabeth looked at her incredulously.

"It's- It's okay."

Hazel let out a breathy chuckle and sauntered casually over to the nearest bookshelf. She brushed her fingers over the nearest array of books before withdrawing sharply as though she had been burnt. She glanced down at her hand and frantically cleaned it, which was stained with sand and still damp from the beach.

"Dad!?" Piper called.

"I'm over here!" Called a muffled voice. Piper beckoned to her friends to follow and wordlessly, Annabeth and Hazel did so. They stopped when they reached the other end of the library, where there was a cosy little fire blazing and two sofas and a coffee table to make a snug little lounge. And on one of those sofas, book before him but staring into the hearth, seemingly drawing wisdom from its embers, sat the very Tristan McLean. Here he was. Incarnate. Very real.

It was surreal, Annabeth thought. That after all these years of watching him on the television, she had this famous movie star seated before her in a dressing gown and slippers. And father to her best friend. Tristan McLean glanced up and smiled in a jovial, paternal manner.

"Pipes!" He exclaimed, "Had a nice time at the beach?" He stretched out his arms and Piper hugged him firmly.

"It was great." She gestured behind her, "These are Annabeth and Hazel."

Annabeth looked down at the man and felt suddenly at loss. She was unsure on how to greet him. Most girls would probably cry with ecstasy of they met such King of Sparta. Perhaps she should shake his hand. Maybe ask for his autograph or beg him a selfie. Tristan however, seemed to sense her unease, because he smiled reassuringly at Annabeth and Hazel in turn, and extended a hand to each of them. His handshake was firm, his demeanour confident from his years of acting and fame.

"Pleasure to meet you girls."

Annabeth nodded, and was about to say 'ditto.' She stopped herself before it slipped from her lips unbidden. Piper's dad or not, that wasn't the way to address a celebrity. Instead, she settled for a nod.

"You too, sir."

Hazel followed her lead and smiled at Tristan.

"You go to school with Pipes?" Tristan asked, his tone conversational and light.

"Yes. We're in the same dorm," Annabeth said, recalling Piper's warning that her father had no idea of her being a demigod. Hazel nodded in agreement and shot Piper an almost apprehensive, questioning look which to any other would have made no sense. But Piper had a way with people, and have her dad one last hug.

"We'll be up in my room."

Tristan ruffled his daughter's hair. "I missed you Pipes."

Piper's expression turned slightly wistful. "You too, dad."

Some time later, the three of them found themselves seated on Piper's king sized bed, hands buried in bowls of popcorn and watching BBC Sherlock on a Sony television. Annabeth watched intently, and a little pridefully when she managed to correctly figure out a certain mystery. It was fun. Fun to sit here on this bed wrapped in quilts. Fun to each popcorn like there was no tomorrow. Fun to just kick back and watch something with her best friends and to rejoice in this utter feeling of relaxation and happiness. They were watching The Rickernback Fall (A/N: Please excuse the spelling) - which was admittedly very sad and heart-wrenching -, exchanging jokes and lighthearted banter, complaining about their boyfriend's strange habits (Sleeping as a bulldog?), discussing with great passion about music (Dayum girl, Andy Black is hot) and, surprisingly, politics (Woah, isn't Trump such a bigoted bastard. He can stick his head so far up his ass, he can finally see all the crap he comes out with (A/N:props to Apocolipscat for the latter insult)).

There was a knock on the door and a familiar figure came in. Annabeth gaped.

"Mellie!?"she gasped. "How's Chuck? Hedge? Aren't you on leave to take care of the baby?"

Mellie smiled warmly. "I just came to bring you dinner and do a bit of cleaning around the house. Nothing big. Everyone's good back at camp, you're being missed. Especially at Capture The Flag." She set a tray laden with bowls of soup and flatbreads on the bed, and gave them a friendly wave.

"I must be on my way now," she said. Before their eyes, Mellie the cloud spirit opened Piper's bedroom window and floated right out into the sky. Annabeth blinked in shock.

"That was... Somewhat unexpected."

Hazel laughed. "I know right!"

Piper glanced at them and lifted a bowl off the table. She turned to her friends. "Well I'd advise you to dig in to your food now because my dad's chefs make the most divine food and you'll want to eat it before it gets cold."

Annabeth and Hazel needed no further encouragement.

A few hours later, Annabeth, Piper and Hazel were discussing sleeping arrangements.

"We have a down mattress in the cupboard," Piper was saying, "So one of you can sleep on the mattress and the other with me on the bed."

Annabeth rubbed her eyes and yawned. "I'll sleep on the floor. Hazel is smaller, it's be an easier for both of you."

Nodding, Hazel dug into her bag and pulled out her pyjamas. "I'm tired then." She said. "Can you guys turn around whilst I change?"

Piper and Annabeth glanced at each other and a smile, a smile of restraining laughter, played on each of their lips.

"Hazel," Piper said as she threw herself down prostate onto the bed, "You may be from the forties, but there isn't any need for us to turn around. We're all girls right?"

Hazel fanned her face. "Gosh, I think I'll change in the bathroom."

Annabeth began to crack up. "'Gosh darn it,' don't be so prudish!"

She yelped, and ducked as a cushion came flying towards her. Hazel was laughing now. She grabbed her clothes and made her way towards the bathroom, leaving her friends giggling behind her.

Piper and Annabeth wriggled into their pyjamas and then ran down the hall to the cupboard Piper had earlier mentioned. It was past twelve, and they were both tired and clumsy as they threw open the closet doors to reveal neatly stacked bedsheets and a large mattress. Together, Annabeth and Piper hauled out the mattress and turned it on its side as they travelled the halls back to the bedroom. Hazel trailed behind them, her vision obscured by the heap of sheets and pillows and duvets in her arms. She was laughing as she bumped into walls, almost drunk on her own giddiness. The trio made quick work of making the beds and presently, they were all warm, lying under blankets and exchanging rapid conversation about the day. They chatted about the surfing and of the swimming and the picnic and Piper's singing, at which the girl blushed and dug her head into her pillow.

They joked. They laughed. They talked.

An hour and a half later, Annabeth couldn't sleep. She was exhausted, that was true, but she was also terrified. Terrified of the nightmares that rotted her mind like a disease, the monsters that chased her around the corners and into alleys. The phantoms and the wraiths that silently laughed from the shadows. She wished Percy were here.

In the bed across from her, Piper stirred and sat up.

"Are you okay?" She whispered into the darkness, her voice heavy with sleep.

Piper's tone had been quiet, but even so, Hazel besides her murmured something unintelligible, and opened her eyes, her golden pupils glinting in the moonlight as she stared down at Annabeth.

"You okay?" Hazel asked. Annabeth began to nod, but then accidentally shook her head.

"I just- it's just," she took a deep breath, "I can't sleep because I'm scared of nightmares and I'm going to wake up screaming in the night and I need Percy to help because... Well, because..." The words rushed out in a jumble, rolled in together like dough.

Piper clicked on the light besides her bed and gave her friends a sympathetic smile. "Because?" She asked.

Annabeth turned a vivid shade of puce. "Never mind. No, never mind."

Piper began to grin, a mischievous glint in her multicoloured eyes that made her face seem so alive.

"...Because?" She pressed.

"Never mind," Annabeth muttered, embarrassment colouring her her voice. Hazel too began to laugh. She reached out and poked her friend.

"Because?" She asked. Annabeth glared at them, their gazes were like guns and their smiles like vipers. She was on the hot seat and she did not like it.

"Because Percy helps me," She choked out, spluttered, "Because when he's here I don't have nightmares, neither of us do because we're like medicine to each other and when he's not here, I can't sleep and at home I need to Iris message him every night because I need him at night and I can't. Sleep. Without him."

Pipers eyes glittered with amusement and Hazel began to rock with laughter.

"Aww," Piper was giggling, "That's so romantic!"

Annabeth's glare hardened, though behind all the ice and storm in her graveyard eyes, there was indeed a little softness. A little part of her that wanted to sit here and laugh along with her best friends who were grinning and each other and chortling. She picked up the pillow by her head and chucked it at Piper, who chucked it right back. Hazel punched Annabeth's arm lightly, if to get her attention more than anything.

"Lighten up," she said. "We'll be here for the nightmares."

Annabeth shook her head. "Don't worry, I can sleep when I get home. You won't sleep well with me."

"But-"

"It's fine. Just go back to sleep."

Hazel looked like she wanted to say something but sighed deeply and nodded in acquiescence. Piper grumbled something too, but even so clicked the lights off. No sooner had her head touched the pillow, she was snoring again.

Annabeth pulled out her book and her reading lamp and prepared herself for a long, long night.


	30. Chapter 30

Dimly, Annabeth was aware of the worried looks Piper was casting her. They sat in the large dining room, waffles, pancakes and other delicacies Annabeth could not name before them. However, such attempts at devouring the gourmet banquet that was breakfast were half-hearted on Annabeth's part. She was tired. Not just tired but exhausted; heavily fatigued. She was slumped in her upholstered chair, her head drooping and her eyes unfocused. Across the table Piper was observing her, juggling between eating, conversing with Hazel and worrying over Annabeth, who was clearly dazed and unwell. Her brow was creased like paper as she stared at the bags beneath Annabeth's eyes, an anxious expression written all over her face.  
There was a hiss across the table: "Annabeth?"  
Annabeth glanced up slowly and I surely. "Uh?"  
"Are you okay?" Piper asked.  
"I'm fine," Annabeth yawned, "Just... Tired."  
Hazel looked up from her pancake and made a sympathetic noise.  
"We'll get you some coffee," she said.  
"Two pints please," Annabeth replied.  
Hazel laughed quietly and fumbled in her pocket. She drew out a few dollars.  
"Tell you what," She said, "Frank Iris messaged me. He said to meet him and the other guys at Times Square. They're going bowling, we can go to. We'll pick up some Starbucks on our way."  
"But we can make some coffee here," Piper said. Hazel waved her hand dismissively. "Don't stress yourself. My treat."

Presently, the three girls found themselves strolling down the high street, draining large cups of coffee and just trying to put one foot before the other.

"Are you sure you're up to this Annabeth?" Hazel inquired.  
"No," Annabeth replied candidly. Piper laughed and elbowed her friend playfully.  
"If you faint," She said, "I know first aid," her tone was not entirely serious.  
"If she faints," Hazel told Piper, "I think that by the time you reach her, Percy will have torn down the entire bowling alley."  
"If I faint. Which I won't," Annabeth intervened, "I would appreciate if you don't do first aid on me, just pore some cold water over me and I'll probably wake up, please and thank you very much. I don't want you to give me CPR."  
"Well what if it was _Percy_ giving you CPR?" Hazel asked, laughter disjointing her voice. Annabeth glanced slightly askance at her friend, but even so, a cheeky grin which spoke volumes of repressed giggles split her face in half.  
"Well then that's a different matter entirely. I can't object to that."  
Piper and Hazel guffawed and earned themselves dirty looks from passing pedestrians as they almost fell over themselves laughing.

Frank, Jason and Percy were sipping cans of soda when the girls arrived. The group greeted each other with an ensemble of hugs and high fives. Annabeth fought through the throng - melee was a better suited word for it - to reach Percy. He had earphones in, leaning against a lamppost, slightly aside from the group.

"Hey Seaweed Brain."  
"Hey Wise Girl. Sleep okay?"  
"No."  
Percy made a sympathetic noise and put an arm around her. He squeezed her tight; holding her firmly, so close it were as if he could shield her from the horrors of the world and its merciless hunger. Shield her from all monsters and phantoms that shook their heads and laughed and stood in the darkest corners and plagued her mind and her eyes - _their_ minds and _their_ eyes- like a disease.

He looked good today. Well, he always looked good, but today he was especially striking. He wore a trilby set askew on his head, a grey tank top hugging his muscular frame and beige cargo pants with Birkenstocks. There was nothing remotely special about the clothes he was bedecked in, yet Percy made them seen like the finest suit or the crispest shirt. On an impulse, Annabeth reached out a straightened the hat. Percy smiled down at her and let his hand drop from around her shoulders, glancing down her arm to her own hand. He took it gently, with the careful, calculated grace of a pianist. Calloused fingers wrapped around her's, a tall, well-built body shifted its weight closer so that shoulder touched shoulder. It was instantaneous: instantaneous that no sooner had Percy's body pressed against her's, the cool autumnal air seemed to still and all Annabeth felt was a warmth flooding through her bones. "I missed you," she muttered to Percy, loud enough to be heard over the starved roar of the traffic but low enough not to be heard by their companions, of whom were in the middle of exchanging rapturous conversation on the events of their respective sleepovers.'

''I missed you too."

"I didn't sleep."  
"Me neither."  
Annabeth peered closer at Percy's face and now saw something she had earlier missed. With a pang that sent a shudder through her body, she saw the haggard, wan look that was almost inscribed upon Percy's face. His eyes were puffy, resting on deep bags. His stance was, though casual, slumped at closer observation, as though the lamppost at his back was taking all his weight. He was paler than usual, his raven hair a mess as it framed his face. A sort of fiery rage settled in Annabeth's heart. She struggled to contain the ire building inside her. Brick by brick in an intricate, artfully designed mural. It was painted with anger.  
"... _Oh_." She whispered, her voice barely just a breath. Then again, a little louder " _Oh_!" For some peculiar reason, she somehow found it not as irksome for her to suffer so much, but the moment the toll of the world was placed upon Percy's shoulder she felt a flame - not the flame of passion and love, but one of bitter fury - ignite somewhere in the depth of her soul. She guessed that his was perhaps the workings of Love. Of that sly, terrifying yet so beautiful creature that ambushed almost every being of this world. She didn't have to be alright. Not so long as Percy had his happiness. Gods. _Oh gods_.

The Seven paid the entrance fee, collected their shoes, some perhaps went to the bathroom and others grabbed some snacks, then convened at the spare alley. Frank, being the only non-dyslexic one who could read the neon writing on the screen with ease, typed their names into the keypad and presently, six names were blinking at them from a little television set above the party. Annabeth went first. She picked up one of the balls and aimed it with flawless precision, despite the lingering fatigue on her eyelids. The pins all toppled to the floor at the mercy of the heavy sphere and Annabeth grinned. _Strike_. Not bad at all. Behind her, her friends let out low whistles as she resumed her seat on the bench.

The next hour passed in a breeze of knocked down pins, whoops and sundaes. Annabeth watched the screen intently as the scores climbed higher and higher. The course of such numbers was altering constantly, yet somehow, she remained first with a very determined Jason trailing seven short points behind. If she thought about it, it was rather quintessentially American; quaint with the pictures discerning scenes from 50s films around the wall and the revolving stools, resembling those of an old diner. There was the snooker table and the remains of a tap room in the antechamber and of course the sodas and burgers served constantly. Annabeth smiled to herself and took a long drain of her Coke. Then she swaggered to the front and delivered the winning strike of the match.

"Heck," Frank muttered. Hazel said something that sounded like a very old curse. Annabeth grinned at them. "I think I won unless Jason can beat that."

A quarter of an hour later, the Seven found themselves walking down the high street munching on McDonald's (A PB&J sandwich for Piper). It was almost time for them to adjourn; to stake out on their own through the streets of New York and to their respective homes - or Nico coming to whisk Hazel and Frank back to San Fran - and the party was making the most of their last few minutes together.

"My birthday next month," Hazel was in the middle of saying. "We should do something to celebrate." Piper nodded besides her.

"It's the seventeenth right?" She asked. "You're going to be fourteen! Aw! So young."

Hazel examined her nails. "Fourteen depending on how you look at it."

"I guess." Piper said. "What you getting her Frank?"

Frank frowned slightly. "That would be telling."

Percy laughed quietly besides her. "We should all go out. We'll treat you to a fancy meal. How's that?" Hazel creased her brow, as if pondering it. "You know what? I've never been to the theater." She said, "We should just watch a cheesy christmas movie."

Percy muttered something about guilty pleasures and cheesy movies. He grinned broadly. "Sounds awesome. We'd better all go now though, we must be attracting every Ancient Greek nasty in the state." As if on cue, a familiar figure melted out of the shadow of a lamp post. The lanky, slender figure of a pale boy with a mop of black hair crowning his head. He offered the group a smile - something Annabeth was not yet used to seeing on the son of Hades's countenance, but such an expression that was becoming frequent since his coming out and his getting together with Will - and yawned largely.

"Are you okay Nico?" Percy asked. Annabeth expected the young boy to scowl and resume his typical sullen expression, since he and Percy had a somewhat complicated history. Instead, Nico simply twitched his lips in a gesture of amusement and asked, "How would you feel if you'd shadow-travelled across the entirety of the States?" Though without the contempt such a sentence could have easily conveyed.

"Ready Hazel? Frank?" He asked, before Percy could even deign to answer. The couple nodded and grasped Nico's arm. The son of Hades did not even flinch as together, they melted into the darkness. Once they were gone, Piper looked at Annabeth, Percy and Jason. She blinked. "That was a window into the weird."

Annabeth watched as Piper and Jason climbed into the back of a cab. She waved at them and her gesture was requited accompanied with small smiles and shouts of "See you later!" Annabeth yelled her response and remained with her eyes fixated on the taxi until it was lost in the streets of New York like a worm in an apple. **(A/N: Get the pun?)** Then she smiled wanly - a smiled heavy with sleep - and turned to Percy. "I'm gonna go home now," She yawned, leaning into Percy for support. "And... And sleep." And though such words brought a shudder that shook her bones, there was a substantial amount of relief in her tone. "Do you want to crash at mine?" Percy asked. "Or I can go to yours. I you'd like, I mean." Annabeth shook her head. "Dear gods, no. My step-mother already thinks you're going to ruin me."

Percy guffawed, and doubled over laughing. He held onto a fire hydrant for support, and suddenly the world seemed a brighter place. It seemed happy and full of life. Because here they were, in New York. Here they were, in the City of Lights. In the best city of the world. And they were young and free and there wasn't a better time to be alive. Or a better place because despite their predicament, they could make the best of it in this wild and beautiful city. Here, where the music blared the loudest and the people laughed the hardest and the buildings seemed to dance in the reflection of the inky rivers, and for all its flaws - _their_ flaws - the world could be a kind place, if one searched hard enough. It was like Eros in the way that it lurked around the most hidden and unexpected places. And then, Annabeth smiled and smiled because for the first time in years she felt true joy at being alive. At being youthful and and a lover and dancer and anything her mind could conjure and she breathed in and inhaled and for a time that could have been seconds or minutes or hours, she leaned against Percy and he put his arms around her and they just stood. Stood in the way no ADHD child had ever done and they tilted their heads to the sky and watched the blanket of the sky turn darker - how was it night already?- and the pricks of light inside the buildings towering above them appear, and though it was Manhattan, and barely any were seen, stared in awed silence as the first few stars scraped the stars and here they grinned and repressed the whoops and the tears inside the locked doors of the mind. And then they turned and faced each other and they kissed - kissed fervently, so fervently they inhaled each other. Kissed so that they no long cared. Kissed so that their hearts fused as the city around them sprang to life and they felt the pleasures of living and they felt the fires of love and the flames of passion course through them and in that moment, the broken world was healed.

Some time later, they bid each other goodbye. Annabeth was no longer tired, and the only thing she wanted to do was to run after Percy - to go home with him and have a peaceful night at his apartment. To hug Sally and to smell the cookies in the oven and to debate with Paul about Politics, literature, architecture - anything of interest. She wanted to return to that cosy flat in Upper Manhattan were the smiles never died and the laughter never quelled. Where she and Percy sometimes stood at the fire escape and talked and watched the skyline of the Big Apple, and drank in the comforting, fulfilling presence of each other. Somehow, she managed to keep one foot in front of the other as she ran towards the nearest cab. If she spent the night at Percy's without permission, she wasn't sure if Helen would ever forgive her. Mr Chase trusted Percy, but Helen, it was obvious, did not completely. She seemed convinced that Percy was the type of guy that would ruin her step-daughter, never mind that his fatal flaw was loyalty. In fact, Annabeth was fairly sure her step-mother was now preparing a speech to her about - you know, what? She didn't want to finish that thought.

Annabeth bit back on a smile as she slid into the cab and banged the door shut. The crash of the door shattered her thoughts, and Annabeth was rather thankful. She gave the cabbie her address and nestled back in her seat to watch the towers of Manhattan as they passed, her thoughts full of the boy with raven hair and the sea green eyes who had woven a web around her life so tight, she might as well be trapped. If not for the fact that Percy was loyal. And she loved him in a way she had never loved before. And he did not trap her, he set her free. He showed her the light and a happiness she would never have discovered without him. Annabeth shook herself. Since when was she such a romantic? Mentally laughing at herself, Annabeth rolled down the window and inhaled the nighttime breeze.

"Bit late to be out alone, miss?" The cab driver said suddenly, in a thick London accent. Annabeth blinked. "No. Why? What time is it?" She asked.

"It's one, miss. One am."

" _What!_ " Annabeth exclaimed. "Oh, _Shit_. _Shit!_ I'm dead, _gods_. My parent are going to kill me." The cabbie gave a click of the tongue that could have been either sympathetic or disapproving. "Spent to long at the club?" He asked, "Canoodling with your boyfriend? Drank a bit to much?" Annabeth stared at the back of the guys head. "I'm sorry" she asked, "But who the hell do you think you are?" The driver was laughing.

"I'm joking," He said. "But seriously, it aint safe so young to be alone at night. Not so young especially."

"I've faced more than just being alone at night. That doesn't scare be. Besides, I had someone with me. I wasn't alone."

In the rear-view mirror, the cabbie's eyes adopted a sort of mischievous glimmer. "Who?"

Annabeth huffed indignantly and turned to stare back out of the open window. "That doesn't concern you," She said frigidly. The cabbie laughed and turned his attention fully back to the road. "I guess not. By the way, your lipstick's smudged. Hair more than a little tangled." The driver raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Annabeth first glared daggers at him, then at her reflection in the window - now rolled up to keep out the cold. "No its not," She snapped. "And I'm not wearing lipstick."

The cabbie grinned. "What's your name, miss?"

"That isn't any of your concern either."

"The name's Greg," The cabbie said, "Nice to meet you."

Annabeth sighed. "Annabeth. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I don't lie."

"Snarky," The cabbie said, though clearly unperturbed. "Mind if I turn on the radio?" Annabeth inclined her head. "It's be my pleasure."

Half an hour later, Annabeth was waving goodbye to the cabbie, who, after a listen to the music station, a bit of banter and a nice long chat about the amazingness of BBC Sherlock, showed to be not so bad as she'd initially thought. Praying to all the gods above that her dad and step-mother were asleep, Annabeth slipped the key into the keyhole. She winced at the click of the lock and held her breath as the door opened with a slight, infuriating creak. The door swung open and Annabeth padded into the hallway, her heart racing, she took off her shoes and made to go upstairs when there was a voice. A taut voice, like a pulled bowstring. A voice thin and worn around the edges. A voice sad and disappointed a angry. So, _so_ angry.

"Annabeth?" It asked. Just those four syllables. Just those eight little letters and that one word so freighted with contempt and fury, Annabeth felt a shiver course up her spine. The voice came from the living room and with a curse under her breath, Annabeth walked into the room, doing her best to appear meek and ashamed. The sight in the room chilled her blood. Helen and Frederick sat there, stiff and straight. They stared at her when she came in, a vein throbbing at the side of Helen's head, knuckles whiter than usual in Mr Chase's hand as he gripped his book.

"Yes?'' Annabeth said, trying her best to sound resentful and a little scared. Admittedly, it wasn't hard. Her father and step-mother glanced at each other, as if trying to decide who to speak first. Finally, Helen's voice broke the agonising silence.

"Annabeth Chase," She said, her voice barely a whisper but still venomous, "Where the hell where you?" And though the words were not particular powerful, the tone sent a shudder reverberating through Annabeth's bones. A tone that was worse, more dangerous than a shout. "Where you with Percy?" Helen asked before Annabeth could reply.

"Maybe," Annabeth said, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. Mr Chase raised an eyebrow. "I mean y-yes. But I was with Piper also. With Hazel and Jason and Frank." She stammered. Oh gods, she was so weak nowadays. As if the war had drained her. "We went bowling."

"Annabeth," Mr Chase sighed, "It was a sleepover. And bowling the following day. Do you expect me - expect _us_ \- to believe that bowling took you till one am? We're not stupid." Frederick's voice was more angry than Annabeth had ever heard it. It was like the edge of a knife, like the trigger of a gun. Annabeth gulped.

"Well then we got lunch at McDonalds and then we adjourned."

" _Lunch_ , Annabeth. _Lunch!_ "

"And everyone went straight home?"

Annabeth couldn't lie. Not to her dad. Not to Helen. The pair would see right through her, almost as if she were glass. A little girl of glass. "Percy sorta stayed a while," She gabbled, voice a squeak. Her stepmother swore deeply under her breath. She put her head in hands. "Annabeth god! Oh damn, I thought you were sensible. Oh god," Helen said, "I need some wine." Annabeth suddenly reddened, realising what her step-mother was probably thinking. She and Percy had stayed in that spot the whole afternoon - and most of the night. But that wasn't normal, gods. Most people would assumed they would have gone on somewhere, and well... "Gods," Annabeth exclaimed, she backed against the wall as if she could somehow allow it to suck her up. "No, Helen. Gods, no. No, I didn't mean that." Helen lifted her head up from her hands, she was still angry, though a sort of relief was there.

'You didn't?"

Annabeth shook her head. "No. No, I swear, I swear on the... '- she grappled in her mind. Rummaging through her thoughts for something strong enough to swear upon'- On the Styx." Helen and Frederick sagged back against the sofa in relief, knowing she would not swear on the Styx if she didn't mean it.

"So you mean you didn't-" Mr Chase said. Annabeth had the sudden, crazy desire to laugh. To bend over and laugh and laugh and laugh. It felt comical. All just felt very comical. Perhaps deliriously so. Somehow though, she repressed the bout of giggles. She was still in huge trouble. She was still dead for coming back at one am, but the way her guardians' minds had wandered. She just found it hilarious. Somehow, Annabeth managed to righten herself. She shook her head fervently. "Look," She told them, "We just hugely lost track of time. I swear, we were just standing at the corner of fifth avenue, looking up at the city I guess. To enjoy Manhattan in a way we never could before. Not being demigods and all. Gods, I'm so sorry. I'll bring my phone next time."

Helen sucked in breath deeply. "Look, go up to your room now. We'll discuss this further in the morning."

Annabeth nodded, surprised by how well that had gone. She bid them goodnight and turned to the door and up the stairs. Damn the nightmares, she was exhausted. She was going to sleep.

 **A/N: Sorry for the little innuendos in this...**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Oh gods guys. Somehow, by some ridiculous miracle I never would have thought possible... I have 1k views. I didn't think I would get past 100 views, let alone 1000. I want to thank all of my readers, all of you who have commented and voted and who have just read this. All of you who simply brightened my day a little with the knowledge that I have written something that people actually want to read and just, THANK YOU**? ﾟﾎﾉ **(that was a crap message. Never mind.)**

Had Annabeth said damn the nightmares? Celaena Sardothien, from Throne of Glass ( **A/N: Throne of Glass is an incredible book series belonging to Sarah J Maas** ), had said a similar thing once, when she'd freed two hundred slaves- 'damn the consequences'. Yet neither Annabeth nor Celaena had felt like damning either the nightmares or the consequences when the time came around to face them. Annabeth was sweating profusely. She'd just awoken from her third ephialtes, and was now feeling rather dismal in the bathroom, clutching the sides of the toilet basin as she retched and retched and retched, bile rising in her throat and falling into the toilet bowl. She was shaking and crying, and though she'd initially attempted to stifle the sobs she'd uttered and the screams that had threatened, she no longer cared. She let the quiet sobs echo through the bathroom, bouncing off the mirror and the tiles and the pipes and the door and the little plastered roof and the wet floor. Annabeth did not cry for help, had not even tried to Iris Message Percy. It was four am, and so was selfish to cry for help. Selfish to wake up the people around her just because of a nightmare. Because of a mere figment of the mind - terrifying as it may have been. Her heart was racing furiously, she felt drained and hungry as her stomach rejected all its contents into the murky waters of the toilet. Admittedly, she felt awful, but like a stubborn child, she abstained from calling for help.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

"Annabeth?" Asked a hushed voice. It was not the deep voice of her father. Nor the high, eloquent one of her stepmother. No, it was the voice of a child. A voice of innocence and laughter and of songs not yet sung. It was a familiar voice that drove Annabeth up the wall so often, yet could be kind and comforting if the need called.  
"Bobby?" Annabeth asked, and she was shocked to discover how hoarse her voice was. How broken and disjointed. Annabeth slumped against the wall, tired and unwilling. She hadn't wanted to wake him. Hadn't wanted to disturb her younger brother from his ever-peaceful slumber. But the door creaked open and a small silhouette padded in on feet as soft, as silent as a cat. The shadow crouched before her with a feline grace and an arm was snaked around her. A light was switched on and into view swam the face of a young boy with dark almond eyes and shaggy black hair.  
"Oh god, Annabeth." Bobby took in his sister's haggard expression, the tears trailing down her cheeks, the pale sheen to her skin. He took in the sick in the toilet bowl - and around it - the puddles of tears littering the floor. He had heard the hoarseness is her voice. Heard the broken touch to it, heard it cracked like glass.

Bobby put his arms around his sister and hugged her tightly.

"Shall I get mommy and daddy?" He asked in a voice quieter than a whisper. Annabeth shook her head adamantly and wrapped her arms closer to her body, suddenly feeling cold and feverish. Without warning, Bobby heaved himself to his feet. He stretched out a hand to his sister.  
"Come on," He said gently, "We'll go downstairs and have some cocoa."  
Tentatively, Annabeth allowed her brother to take her hand and pull her to her feet. She rose unsteadily, weak and nauseous from her nighttime endeavours in the bathroom, and allowed herself to be led out of the room. The two children- Both so young, yet so old - seemed to conjoin at the stairs, or so was the story that their shadows told. Their shadows melting together, depicting scenes of a boy, a small child only, supporting a tall girl besides him. A sister who had endured so much for only seventeen short years. Who had endured so much for an entire lifetime.

Annabeth and Bobby made to the kitchenette and poured themselves two glasses of hot chocolate. Once the drinks were prepared, they slid into seats at the dining room table and for a while, just stared at each other. There was a silence. A silence not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. It was such a silence that held many unanswered questions in its iron clutches. A silence that had seen and heard things it would never relieve but in the meantime howled and screamed at all and sundry of the terrors it has seen and the beauties it has experienced. And it was such a silence that hung over Bobby and Annabeth like something that could have been either the darkest of clouds or the lightest of quilts.

Eventually, Bobby spoke. "What happened," he whispered. Annabeth stared into her glass. "A lot." Her voice was disjointed and cracked, little more than a rasp. "A lot," she repeated, "and so much - so many terrible things I don't think I could ever describe to you."

"Tell me something that happened. I want to - _I need to_ \- help."  
"And why do you need to?"  
"Because I am your brother and you are my sister, and though we sometimes hate each other, for what it's worth, you are a good sister and I don't want to see you so hurt."  
"... Are you sure this is the real Bobby."  
"Positive. Tell me something that happened."  
Annabeth took a deep breath and fought against the tears pricking her eyes.  
"Well. There was Tartarus. _Tartarus_. It always comes to that doesn't it?" She began, bitterness so clear, so emphasised in her voice it was startling. "But then you were dying. You and Matthew and dad and Helen.  
A Percy was dying too. And so was Piper and Frank and Jason and Hazel and everyone I care for. And they called to me to save them but I was shackled to the ground and I could not. I had to watch helplessly as they - as _you_ \- died. And that was'- The words died on Annabeth's lips. She struggled for breath, chiding herself, scolding. "And that was-" she tried again but her tongue felt like lead. A deep breath now. "And that was the final straw. Because I was helpless. Because I thought I could save them, I thought I could save them all and like that, my arrogance had killed them and it was a worse punishment that killing me!" Annabeth took a shuddering gasp and slumped back against the chair. "Do you know what hubris means, Bobby?"  
Bobby shook his head, but, to his credit, did not offer 'hummus,' as an answer.  
"It means excessive pride," Annabeth told him, "It means _deadly_ pride. And that's what it was. Because in the nightmare, it was fatal. And I cost you everything, and that wasn't even the worst part of my nightmare."  
Bobby nodded mutely. For a terrifying, agonising moment, Annabeth thought he would ask for the worst part of her dream. She wasn't ready to tell him. Wasn't prepared to talk about the punishments she had witnessed. The torturing and the screams she had heard.

It was seven am when there was the sound of footfalls on the stairs. Outside in the garden, a bird chirped and there was a flutter of wings as it flew into the sky. Annabeth and Bobby glanced startled at each other. Here they were, still down here after a long night, draped across their chairs half-asleep. Mr Chase halted in the doorway and observed his two children with an expression of shock and bewilderment.

"Annabeth? Bobby?" He asked. Stifling yawns, the duo turned sheepishly to their father.  
"Hey dad," Annabeth muttered.  
"What are you doing here?" Mr Chase exclaimed.  
"Sorta spent the night down here."  
Frederick groaned, but pushed no further. "Well, you're starting Goode today, so as long as you're awake. And then there's that little issue of your coming home at one we're going to discuss as so as your step-mom gets down."  
Bobby turned to his sister, his eyes wide. " _Seriously_!?"  
Frederick glanced down at his son. "Yes. She did, and she's going to get punished."  
Annabeth groaned loudly and leaned hard back against the backrest. "But what's the problem?" She asked, "One is early if anything. At seventeen."  
"One is early," Mr Chase said, "If you go clubbing. Which you - or I sincerely hope you - didn't. You went bowling. And besides, you were alone."  
Annabeth sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. "I wasn't alone until I got in the cab."  
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."

There was a sudden creak on the stairs, and the trio in the dining room jumped in unison. They watched as the lean figures of Helen and Matthew appeared in the doorframe, frozen stiff as in a painting.

"Good morning," Frederick said. Helen smiled warmly at him. She crossed the room towards him in a few short strides, and pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek, before sliding into the chair opposing Annabeth.  
"Hello Annabeth. Slept well?"  
"No."  
Helen inhaled deeply, as though trying to steel her annoyance at her angsty teenager. At that moment, Mr Chase came bumbling over, bowls of cereal clattering on a tray in his hands. He set a plate before his wife and daughter, then handed his sons their favourite cereal bars and motioned for them to go. Bobby and Matthew hesitated, disappointment creasing their face, but then saw their parent's faces and seemed to decide this wasn't a drama they wanted to be part of. They nodded and left the room, only the slightest sign of protest upon their young countenances. Once the sounds of jubilance, of the innocence and childhood belonging to Annabeth's brothers had dimmed against the roar of the Manhattan traffic and the hubbub of the metropolis, Helen and Frederick turned to their eldest, their faces near blank of expression. Blank if only for that lingering tightness of the lips and the slight throbbing in the vein. Annabeth was not scared of either of her parents, or her mortal ones anyway, but she could not quite repress the sinking sensation inside her. The small flicker of doubt.

Mr Chase cleared his throat. "So. We didn't quite get to finish our conversation last night," he said. His voice carried the slightly vague, almost unhinged sort of tone of one who was not entirely sure on what he was about to say. Annabeth examined her lap as though it held the secrets of the universe. "No, I suppose we didn't." She breathed.

"Last night we discussed the situation thoroughly," Helen said, "And we decided that perhaps we overreacted a little. You are seventeen now, and responsible enough to look after yourself."  
Annabeth began to say something - Something to express not only her gratitude, but surprise - but Helen held up a hand, indicating she wasn't yet done.  
"Nevertheless, you should have at least contacted us somehow. A pay phone maybe, to warn is you would be out late. And so-"  
"- But I told you, I completely lost track of time. I thought we'd just been standing there for a few minutes."  
Helen smiled dryly. "Fascinating what love can do." She said, though with little emotion. "And as I was saying before you so kindly interrupted. You will still be punished."  
Annabeth glanced up at the kitchen clock. "Well, whatever it is," she muttered, "Can we please make it quick? Because school starts in half an hour and I can't be late on my first day."  
Helen glared at her step-daughter. "You will still be punished, but - unless you deign to interrupt me again - considerably less than initially so. We won't pay you, but three times a week you will be expected to tutor your brothers for an hour per day, Monday, Wednesday and Friday."  
Annabeth let out a sigh of relief. "That's okay then. That will be all? Thanks." She made to get up, but was held back by her father, who pulled her back down to into her chair.  
"No. That will not be _all_." Mr Chase said, a slight scorn colouring his voice.  
"We want you to take our phone with you every where now. So that we can contact you easily."  
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "You'd swear I was going to a speakeasy or an orgy."  
"It's only a matter of time," her father said, though joking, and it warmed Annabeth thoroughly at seeing Frederick succumb to a little banter again. Lately he'd either been too engrossed in work or nagging at Annabeth to really live a little. Annabeth grinned at them both.  
"See you later!"

Something Annabeth had not known: The walk to school was four and a half miles. It had seemed so much shorter by car, but now, as Annabeth, in the land of automobiles, slogged it on foot, the rain water washing around her, she longed for her father's toasty warm car or that blue Prius, who's sight always warmed her so much. It was cold, too cold for her thin jeans and flimsy H&M tee shirt. Annabeth wrapped her arms around herself, trying not think about how late she would be. Instead, she satisfied herself with thoughts of Hestia's warm hearth and warm woollen blankets and _home_ \- of Camp Half Blood. But then, her thoughts of home, somehow wandered. They drifted from a joyous Athena cabin and rowdy campers to another apartment in upper Manhattan like lost ramblers straying off the path. Her mind was suddenly on Sally Jackson with her swollen belly and the young girl - the little sister to Percy - she was bearing. The blare of headlights cut through the streets before her, and as easily as it had come, the thought crumbled away. Annabeth hugged her arms tighter around her body.

It couldn't still be three and a half miles till the school could it? Annabeth halted and checked the signpost to make sure. Around her, the rain fell in a beautiful display of dispersed light. Where the droplets kissed her bare arms, a shiver would course up her body and when she tilted her head to the heavens, like tears the water fell and struck her skin hard like ample axes, yet smooth as gentle fingers. Annabeth's hair was wet and lanky. It stuck to her face like a wet towel, limp and dead. Cold, frigid ice daggers, coursed its way up Annabeth spine. The girl sighed deeply, ducked her head and stepped back out into the rain, into the open plain that was the high street were the winds battered her from side to side and roared challenges like angered lions. Annabeth put one foot on front of the other and continued her walk, fruitlessly trying to steer her thoughts away from the bitter cold and the sharp hail that pummelled her skin.

As it turned out, Annabeth hadn't taken two steps when a familiar car drew up besides her. Annabeth gave a start as the window was rolled down and a very dishevelled, very bedraggled and very handsome face stuck its head out into the cool air.

"Percy?" Annabeth breathed. Percy flung open the door of the shotgun seat, and Annabeth scrambled in without encouragement. When she was in, Percy got out and into the rain - which did nothing to him. He rummaged around in the boot and came back one minutes later with something around his neck. A beach towel.  
"Well," Annabeth joke, "I rather thought we were going to school, not swimming."  
"No 'Thank you Percy Jackson, Lord and saviour for rescuing me from this wild, wild storm'?" Percy asked, passing her the towel. Annabeth dug her elbow into his ribs.  
"Thank you, Seaweed Brain."  
"I can accept that."  
Percy jutted his chin towards the beach towel. "Dry off."  
"But I'll get Paul's car all wet."  
"I don't think it can possibly get any wetter now," Percy said. "Besides, he won't mind."  
Annabeth shrugged, and began to wipe the towel around her sodden arms, her face, her hair. Once she thought she looked presentable, she dished out her standard bottle of concealer, and used it to help her cover up her scars. It was only once she'd completed the entire routine, that she finally spoke again.  
"My parents were so angry at me last night. For you know, coming back at one."  
Percy nodded, and his face seemed to crumple. "My mom was worried sick. I didn't mean to worry her!"  
"I have to tutor my brothers as punishment."  
"Dam(n), that can't be good."  
"It's not."  
And then they rounded the corner and the majestic building of Goode High School came into view and as she stared at the tall, imposing red-brick manor and the flood of students coming into the school, Annabeth could almost feel someone punching her lungs as the breath was knocked out of her.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or any of its characters. Or any of Rick's long, long list of books because I am a girl. I am thirteen. And my hair is not grey. (WinkPolyjuicePotionWink).

The receptionist glanced up at Percy and Annabeth over half moon spectacles. "What can I do for you today?" She asked pleasantly, her cool voice washing the room. Annabeth gulped.

"Well, I'm new. I need a schedule.'

"What's your name, miss?"

"Annabeth. Annabeth Chase." Annabeth replied, trying to tamp down on the nerves fraying her voice. The secretary nodded and leafed through a binder at her side. Eventually, she fished one out and handed it to Annabeth. The girl smiled and uttered her thanks. Then she turned away and allowed Percy to lead her out of the reception. He guided her up seemingly endless flights of stairs and through a labyrinth of identical doors. The Labyrinth. Annabeth shook herself and built up the dam in the her mind before the memory could flood her, drown her. After a few more minutes, they reached a door, one not unalike the others, and among a steady throng of pupils, Percy pushed it open and slipped swiftly into the classroom.

"Well this is my homeroom. Let me just check where your's is," Percy took the schedule from Annabeth's hands, though gently, and studied it throughly, his brow creased. An expression of raw delight danced suddenly on his face. "Looks like you're in my homeroom eh! Coincidence huh?"

"The universe is rarely so lazy."

"Ha."

Annabeth commenced her walk to her form teacher at the front of the class, but faltered when she saw who stood there.

If Annabeth had been surprised to see Paul Blofis standing before his tutor group, attempting to muster as much silence as he could in the class, such man showed no shock whatsoever. As if he had known she'd be coming. Come to think of it, he probably had. So when the guy had simply smiled at her and said, "Hello, Annabeth," In the most casual tone she had ever heard, Annabeth could not help the little the little spark of curiosity which ignited within her.

"W-what, y-you?" Annabeth began, rendered speechless, such a state rare to her. "You teach here!?" She settled for. Paul nodded.

"Yes. I teach English and, as it appears, you, in my home room. Did Percy not tell you that?"

Annabeth turned to look at Percy who in turn smiled sheepishly and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "Might've forgotten to say," He muttered, and gave her a lopsided grin, his sea green eyes sparkling like emeralds. Annabeth felt something melt in her rib, and tried to conceal the blush as she turned back to Paul, who was laughing at his son's guilty expression. Well, she hoped it was at his son's expression, not at her's.

"Well," Paul said. He thrust his chin at an empty seat in the back corner of the classroom. "Go sit down. There's a spare seat there." Annabeth obliged, and wove through the desks, ignoring the curious glances thrown like knives in her direction. She slid into her seat and began to pull out her supplies, only half aware of Paul's introduction to her and the comments zipping like wasps through the class room. Paul read out announcements, mostly regarding school clubs, took registration and it wasn't long before Annabeth had succumbed to a comfortable, hazy daydream.

A quiet tapping cut through Annabeth's reverie like a blade. '.- .-. . / -.- - ..- /- -.- .- -.-' Annabeth blinked in surprise as her brain quickly processed this as morse. 'Are you okay?" Smiling, Annabeth held her pen loosely, and subtly tapped out '-.- . ... /- ... .- -. -.- ...' which translated to 'Yes thanks'. There was no more tapping, but across the room, Percy flashed her a small smile before returning his attention to Paul, who was loudly talking about the swim team's next competition. Annabeth couldn't help but grin.

Annabeth stepped tentatively out into the corridor. The corridor seemed alive. It roared and yelled and screeched and moved like a beast and the students within it made this. Her timetable read that she had Drama first. Drama then AP Maths/ English then AP PE/ AP Science then Architecture (Elective)/AP Social Studies, in chronological order. Behind her Percy frowned at her timetable.

"I have Drama, PE and Social Studies with you." He said, "But not the other four." Annabeth glanced at his timetable and suddenly grinned. She punched his arm lightly; playfully.

"Look at you! Two AP classes - Music and Social Studies." Percy's smiled then, and his smile became something more childish. Something bashful and proud, like a child extremely pleased at a feat they had just achieved. Such a smile that warmed Annabeth's heart and left her tingling all over. She looped a finger around his's, and tugged gently on his arm. She began to walk down the passage. "C'mob Seaweed Brain. Let's get to Drama." But Percy stayed where he was and instead pointed behind him.

"Drama's that way," he laughed. Annabeth smiled somewhat ruefully.

"Well I'm sorry. I'm new here."

The class filed into the drama in a surprisingly orderly fashion for teenagers. Annabeth followed her peer's examples, as they dragged out chairs from the stacks around the room, and made a slightly mis-shapen circle. At her side, Percy's knee bounced up and down. He was talking to her with great rapture, explaining the ins-and-outs of life here. It was admittedly interesting, to learn about the lifestyle in each school Annabeth attended. Because though each was so similar, they each had that little tweak - that little difference that made every school so similar yet so unique. Annabeth glanced up as a small boy with rather elvish features. He slid into the seat besides Percy, and motioned to Annabeth. "Yo. Perce. Who's the girl?" he said.

"'The Girl,' is spoken for, if you please," Percy said, and in that moment, a surge of affection and love for her boyfriend washed through Annabeth like the tide.

"I'm sorry," the boy amended easily. He turned to Annabeth. "Who are you?"

"Annabeth." Annabeth said. The little runt blinked.

"Seriously!?"

"No, I'm kidding," Annabeth stuck out a hand for a handshake, "The name's Dolores Umbridge."

Percy intervened quickly. "Yes, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, this is Frederick, like your dad. Only we call him Freddy Krueger because of his despairingly ugly looks and dangerously long nails."

Freddy bowed deeply. "Not so sure about the ugly part but... I'll leave that for the ladies to decide. Nice to meet you Annabeth - you know Percy talks about you all the time. It's Annabeth this, and Annabeth that. Oh, by the way, I proposed to Annabeth yesterday, we're having a June wedding and for a honeymoon - Ow!" Percy kicked his friend in the shins, and Freddy grimaced in pain. He looked up laughing at Annabeth, though.

"What he means," Percy said somewhat drily, "Is that it is lovely to meet you and he sincerely hopes you will feel welcome here." Annabeth looked down at Freddy and realised with a pang, how much he reminded her of Leo. Just then another kid sat down. He exchanged greetings with Percy and Frederick, alias Freddy Krueger, then looked up at Annabeth and the same process was repeated. They called this guys the Joker. Bunch of nerds.

"Good Morning, class." Said a jovial, feminine voice from the centre of the circle. "We have a new student today, this is Annabeth." Annabeth waved slightly, and adopted a sudden interest in her leather boots. Once the chatter had ceased, the teacher resumed: "We're starting a new unit today: I'm going to assign you a pair, and you can choose from this list of Shakespeare's plays, or ancient myths to work with for the coming semester. This is focusing on old types of theatre. Eventually you'll have the chance to put this into a little more practice, but for today, we're just reading up on our chosen one, okay? You have a huge variety so no one tell me they don't know what to choose." Annabeth watched anxiously as she travelled the room, pairing up those who were seated besides each other. That at least was a relief. She could go with Percy.

Percy and Annabeth sat in the corner of the drama hall. They leafed through the booklet.

"Romeo and Juliet?" Percy offered. Annabeth stared at him and snorted.

"No way! We should do an ancient Greek story- familiar ground like ah- this one. The story of Psyche and Eros - The Golden Ass." She said. Percy choked. "I'm sorry. What?"

"The Golden Ass is the name of the story Seaweed Brain."she said, her voice quavering with laughter.

"Oh right. Best not say that to the class, but okay. I guess I'll be Eros." Annabeth flipped her hair. "They did describe Psyche as the most beautiful mortal alive, so I guess its fitting." Perhaps she put a little too much emphasise on the word 'mortal'. No need to get smited by Aphrodite up in the heavens.

"Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself."

"Darling, you know I'm beautiful."

"That's right."

"Aw, thanks. Wouldn't have expected it.

The lesson was spent exchanging banter, throwing empty insults at each other and discussing the injustices of life. Most of all, it was spent doing anything but reading the story itself. Annabeth laughed and laughed until her lungs felt like a full balloon and her sides ached as if a hammer were being beaten against them. At one point, Freddy Krueger and the Joker, who's actual name turned out to be Jones, joined them, and the four of them sat together, pointless attempts at small talk flying between them. Their conversations went something like:

"So... When's your birthday?"

"December the second,"

"Fascinating."

And then a silence would ensue, and the group would look at each other blankly until Percy and Krueger struck up a conversation on a mindless topic like video games. They would finish that and another silence would ensue, all the boys looking awkwardly at Annabeth as though they were somehow expected to behave properly in the presence of a lady. To Annabeth, it was risible, but all the same, she was glad of this company. Happy to have already made friends. If this would be her quotidian routine, she didn't mind.

In one of the less guarded conversations, Annabeth learned that the two guys were a couple. They were doing Romeo and Juliet also (That would be a funny play to watch. Not quite as funny as 'The Golden Ass' but funny all the same.) , and both had a deep love for One Direction (That was a nil-nil in similarities so far) and a deep hate for Justin Bieber. And in the rivers of small talk, she acquired the pointless knowledge that Freddy Krueger coveted cheesy horror movies and the Joker loved old 50s films. (Whereupon Annabeth had had to high five him.) Frederick also had six brothers and came from a country in Indonesia called Fiji. Jones had thirty-five cousins and came from Albania. By time the bell rang, Annabeth had made quite firm friends and was rather reluctant to go to maths.

The day passed by in a breeze. It slipped like sand through Annabeth's fingers, and before she knew it, she and Percy were patiently queuing outside room 12, awaiting their teacher to allow them inside.

"We're starting a new unit on Ancient Cultures," Percy was saying. "Apparently we're starting on Ancient Greece, moving onto the Roman Empire, the Egyptians and finishing on Vikings, if that interests you."

"Well this unit'll be easy, I guess."

"Hopefully. My knowledge on vikings is pretty patchy."

Annabeth grunted in acknowledgement, and turned to face the teacher who was bustling out the door. He sat in a wheelchair, a blanket draped across his lamp and a queer, fake sword at his side. A scraggly beard covered his face, reaching down from the mop of tangled hair on his side. Annabeth frowned at the face, it looked like him, but no... no it couldn't be. And then the teacher spoke in a voice so undoubtedly his, and simultaneously, Percy and Annabeth choked on the very air around them.

The line of impatient kids began to crawl forwards, and with a glare at 'Mr Brunner' at the front - a glare which was returned right back, though with a lot more laughter - Annabeth moved with them into the classroom. As she had with all the other classes, Annabeth dawdled at the back of the room, awaiting to be told where to sit. Once the class was quiet, Chiron, no Mr Brunner, spoke.

"Good afternoon class. Your regular teacher finds himself indisposed as the moment, and so for the foreseeable future, I will be taking your social studies classes. That is all you need to know. I believe we have a new student today. Welcome... What's your name child?" Annabeth glared daggers at the old centaur, and was certain she could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Annabeth Chase," She said through gritted teeth.

"Pleasure to have you in my class Miss Chase, I am sure you will be a wonderful student. Would you please take a seat besides Mr Jackson here at front."

Annabeth scowled as she took the seat next to Percy and fumbled in her bag for her stationary. She watched only half interested as Chiron introduced the unit and focus for the next two weeks - indeed Ancient Greece (What a coincidence?)-and assigned the task for today. It was, quite simply, researching an aspect of Ancient Greek society on the computers and making a poster about it. This would certainly be a relaxing lesson. Without having to say anything but looking each other in the eye, it was established that Percy and Annabeth would do a nice little - or big - poster on the ample amounts of gods.

They were working hard on a drawing of Athena and Poseidon's competition for Athens when Chiron sidled - or rather wheeled - over to Percy and Annabeth."Can you two stay after class -I need to talk to you about something," Chiron said to them, his voice hushed. Annabeth looked up sharply. "Oh, don't worry," She snapped as quietly as she dared, "I was planning on asking you a few questions too."

"This is for your own protection, child."

Oh really? We survived Tartarus and we can't survive High School. And protection of the camp? It'll be a school of dolphins when we get back!"

"Yes but you being you, will attract an awful lot of monsters. There will be mortal lives at stake."

"I wouldn't worry sir," Percy jumped in, putting a hand to Annabeth's arm as if he could somehow rein her, "The kids here smell plenty bad. They'll mask our scent anyway. Especially after Phys Ed." A little bit of Joie de vie returned to his eyes, and for a moment, the cracks in Percy's eyes were healed and he was a little boy again. Desperately believing in the fairy tales with happy endings and the heroes who won more than they lost.

The bell rang, and Percy and Annabeth handed their poster to Chiron, who looked at it, smiled and praised them on 'Their superb knowledge of the gods and excellent work.' Once the class had gone, Chiron locked the door and turned to them. The old centaur's face was alive with a wild sort of joy.

"I'm sorry for being here, I know you can manage yourself, may I say that before you bite my head off Annabeth?"

"So why are you here?"

"Precautionary. But we need to go now. Argus is waiting outside!"

"Woah. Hold up!" Percy yelled. "Why is Argus here? Is the camp alright?"

Chiron grinned happily at them. "Grover's engaged. He requested both of your's presence at the camp."


	33. Chapter 33

Only once they had been in the van for half an hour, did Percy finally speak.

"So... Grover's getting married?"

"Yes," Chiron said. Percy's face broke suddenly into an ecstatic beam. It was a smile that shone like the sun, one that spoke volumes of sheer, undiluted happiness. Of giddiness and insanity and jubilance which could never cease. Of something which was permanent and something which was monumental and titanic and provoked such raw joy, one could believe they would never be sad again. So that it was like a drug and with one look at Percy's grin, Annabeth felt suddenly light, as if the weight of the sky had been taken off her shoulders.

"When?" The boy demanded.

"Next month."

"Next month?"

"Well, they got engaged privately a while back- made all the plans. They only made it public yesterday."

Percy gaped, and shot Annabeth a side long smile, his eyes wild with unmasked joy.

"Oh yes," Chiron said, "You're best man. You're the maid of honour, Annabeth."

Annabeth blinked. "Me? Why would Juniper want me as maid of honour. Why not one of the dryads?"

"Because you've been a very dear friend to her, and very helpful."

"Oh. Wow, I'm flattered," Annabeth replied, feeling a degree exuberance building inside of her.

The van zipped down the city streets, and no more conversation was made. There was ebullience in the air; an ebullience that called for silence. It demanded attention for each respective person to mull over the news privately, each feeling the unhindered joy of their dearest friend's prospected wedding. That was the case for Percy and Annabeth anyway. And so the only sound was Dean Martin's and Frank Sinatra's desperate yowling of 'Sway.' Chiron hummed along to the tune relentlessly, and Annabeth was reminded with a start of the Stymphalian Pigeons she and Percy had encountered when they were thirteen. The memory made her smile.

Eventually, Argus drew up by the big hill to the strawberry fields, and Percy and Annabeth tumbled out of the van. The sense of nostalgia that washed over her was instantaneous, and Annabeth wanted nothing more than to hurtle up the slope and down the hill. To run into her cabin and throw herself down on her bed and stare up at ceiling and close her eyes. Or she could go to the campfire with Percy, and they would toast marshmallows and make s'mores. A figure: a tall, lean but muscular figure appeared at her side and discreetly wrapped its fingers around her's.

"Let's go,"

"My parents are going to kill me if I come late home," Annabeth said, such a thought striking her so suddenly, she felt off kilter, as if she were about to fall. The sound of hooves, and Chiron clopped by, no longer in a wheelchair.

"Not to worry. I've contacted them. You'll spend the night here."

"Oh. That's good. Thank you."

With that to put her mind at ease, Annabeth grasped Percy's hand and pulled him up the hill after Chiron.

The pair crested the hill, and stared down at the camp. It seemed like a normal day here, with the archery and the sword fighting. Kids were canoeing by the lake, and the sound of Austin's violin was sweet, filling the valley with a beautiful, almost power-hungry ode. Somebody by the camp-fire looked up suddenly.

"Hey! It's Percy and Annabeth!" They yelled. A few people in vicinity glanced up in surprise, and Annabeth waved at them. She waved and she smiled, because here she was, at home among her friends. And this was the place she lived best, with her mentor behind her and her lover besides her and her cohorts all around. She ran down the hill to meet the campers by the campfire, and a smile was plastered on her face.

The kids greeted her and Percy with laughter, and questions about High School. There was news of Capture the Flag later, which was good. She was only here for one day, but Annabeth wanted to make the most of it. After a few minutes of pleasantries exchanged (Malcolm, Hey! Cabin in order?), and some perhaps slightly less pleasant words with Clarisse (Still getting beaten by plumbing?), Percy spoke up.

"Where's Grover?"

"In the Big House, last time I saw him," someone from the back called. Percy nodded and gripped Annabeth's arm.

"We should go and see him."

Annabeth nodded also. She bid her companions goodbye, and she and Percy turned towards the Big House. Towards the place which had caused them such tumultuous joy, but sadness and fear all the same. This place where prophecies had been told and death warrants signed. But also a place of laughter and friendships, and a friend was waiting for them now. A friend whom they missed and had not seen in months. A friend with shaggy goat legs, a lanky body and Pan Pipes hanging around his neck. A friend they had lived with and fought besides and a friend who was now unlocking the gate to his life. Because he was getting married

Grover was waiting for them with a smile. He tackled Percy and Annabeth into a group hug, and squeezed them tight. When they came apart, he was laughing, bouncing up and down on the balks of his feet like a little boy.

"G-man!" Percy exclaimed.

"Grover!" Annabeth whooped.

"I'm getting married!" Grover sang.

A series of high-fives followed. Claps resounding through the room, so loud that Seymour, the leopard propped up on the wall woke, and let out a roar to add his own piece to the party. Grover let out a contented sigh, and sank back into the sofa behind him.

"Chiron told you you were best man?" He asked Percy. Percy grinned and nodded.

"Annabeth's maid of honour, as well."

"I know!" Annabeth said, happiness disjointing her voice suddenly. The trio glanced at each other once more, beamed involuntarily, and became tangled in another rather exaggerated embrace.

The day passed by in a flash, and before long, the camp was sitting around the campfire, wolfing down marshmallows and singing joyfully about how 'Grandma got ready for battle'. Annabeth and Percy sat at the front, surrounded by the likes of Jason and Piper and Grover and Juniper. The mood was light and happy, and the flames of the campfire stood tall and proud, dancing in a slow waltz around each other, coloured a light purple in the hearth. Capture the Flag would follow, and so the expected buzzing of slightly agitated, excited campers was standard. Annabeth learned the Athena cabin would be teamed with Apollo and Ares, along with Poseidon, after Percy making hasty arrangements to join a team.

Nearer the end of the campfire, Chiron trotted to the centre of the amphitheatre. He gestured to the Apollo campers to cease the music, and the merry tune they had previously been playing dimmed against the noises of the late evening: of the waves crashing against the shore and the chirping of crickets.

"I have an announcement to make," Chiron projected his voice. It sounded imperious, resounding around the slopes of the valley, resonating through the camper's bones. Annabeth glanced up from her conversation with Piper

"As I'm sure you're all aware," Chiron pressed on. "We had some rather exciting news yesterday: Grover and Juniper's engagement."

There was a round of polite clapping that sparked through the audience. Chiron waited for it to die before he resumed his speech.

"We have received the news of none other than Percy as best man-" Percy, shameless, stood up and bowed deeply, gesturing wildly to a very red-faced Grover besides him.

"-And Annabeth as maid of honour. Which I'm sure you'll all agree, the pair is a fitting choice."

There were wolf-whistles in the crowd, but Annabeth decided to let them slide.

"So I would like to congratulate Grover and Juniper, that is all!" Chiron finished, "You have the best wishes of the entire camp."

Grover bowed his scarlet face. "Thank you, sir."

There was a hubbub as various campers fought to collect and don their armour. Annabeth put it on with ease, slipping on the blue feathered helmet finally, and drawing her dagger- a new one she had bought at the camp's store. Percy stood besides her. He looked intimidating, clad in a bronze visor, breastplate, gauntlets. Statuesque almost, standing like marble at her side. He linked his fingers through her's, and they walked together to where the rest of the blue group had convened. Once the Reds had filtered out, Malcolm, who was captain today, addressed his team. He began assigning positions to the various members. It was established that Percy and Annabeth would cross the creek and get the flag, along with Kayla, Malcolm and Clarisse, who bore a face sour enough to curdle milk. That left the rest of the team on the defensive side, to guard the flag. The Blues got into position and waited for the conch horn to sound.

There was a blaring of a conch horn, and like a machine back in order or a monster lying in the ambush, the campers sprang up in unison. The familiar clash of metal on metal resounded through the woods. Percy leapt over the creek, his movement fluid. As he did so, a surge of water rose up and covered the opposing bank. The few straggling Reds on the other side squealed like piglets as the water dragged them into the river. By the time they resurfaced, sodden, grumpy and casting glares in the direction of Percy, Percy was long gone. Annabeth lingered only a moment before taking off after her boyfriend.

She caught Percy crouching behind a large boulder, and as quietly as she dared, jogged up to him. He started, but smiled when he saw who it was.

"Any idea where the flag is?" She asked.

"Perfectly." Percy peered around the large rock, and gestured before him. "Right over there."

Annabeth frowned and looked over the boulder. Sure enough, half a mile away, a red flag decorated with Hephaestus themed patterning stood proudly among the trees. And guarding it - or at least the visible guards - were none other than Annabeth and Percy's dear friends Piper and Jason. And even from this distance, the expressions on their faces were fierce. Percy gulped.

"We need... Um, a plan of action, there'll be more guards hiding."

Annabeth stood up, leaning against the boulder. "You stole my line." She whispered. Percy gave her a rakish smile, and tugged on her shirt.

"They'll see you, get down," he hissed. Annabeth batted away his hand, but crouched all the same. She realised only when she shifted her weight slightly, how close they were. Their shoulders brushed against each other, painful in armour, their cheeks barely millimetres apart. Percy seemed to notice this too. It wasn't embarrassing, a few years ago they would have jumped apart glaring at each other, but now they only smiled and linked their fingers together. Strong fingers tied together like manacles. And then, without really realising what had happened, they found themselves starring into each other's eyes. Annabeth felt again as if she were drowning in those bottomless, sea green depths. His eyes were the sea and her's a storm and together they made the wildest, most turbulent tempest the world had ever witnessed. They had taken several stands, they had saved the earth and lives and the world. Nothing could stop them. Because together, at least it seemed now, they were invincible.

Percy's tender smile broke Annabeth's thoughts, and she smiled back weakly. And then Percy had his hand on her cheek, and a fire was racing up her face from where his fingers touched. It was little arcs of electricity that shocked her and gave her delight at the same time. No one was here. There was no one to witness this. And then Percy pressed his lips to her's and the world collapsed.

There was only silence in Annabeth's ears. The type of silence that was so quiet, it was loud. She could taste Percy's lips on her's, feel the scarred skin of his face beneath her hands. She was here and so was he. They were in the woods, yet they were in another place entirely. It was like they were drugs to each other, so that she was breathing Percy in, because he was her lifeline and her soul and her heart. He smiled against her lips, and though her eyes were closed and her senses were hazy, she knew between the little breaths of reality, that it was that endearing - irksome yes, but endearing all the same- little smile of his. That mischievous but so beautiful smile to his lips. There were wings sprouting on her back, and they were flapping and taking her, taking them, far away, up, up, up beyond the clouds, beyond Olympus, beyond the very atmosphere of the early and beyond the empty vacuum that was space. The world was cruel and awful and horrible but kindness could be found - she had discovered that last night. And this little bit of kindness was Percy. It was Percy with his jokes and his comfort and his love that made this life worthwhile. Because she was clinging onto him and if she let go, she would fall. And it was the same to him, she guessed. In the way that the dreams they shared and the Iris Messages and their hearts which had never stopped beating up to this day, and it was only because of each other that they still beat. And that wasn't only metaphorical, even if this was just a world of dust and of shadows and of nonsensical rhymes.

There was the resounding clash of metal on metal and a voice that cut through the fires of passion and the tingle on their lips.

"Okay, okay. Enough making out - there's a flag to be captured" hissed a familiar voice. Annabeth blinked, coming apart from Percy, and stared sheepishly into the face of a scowling Malcolm. Not far behind, Clarisse was stifling laughter. Thankful for the helmet hiding the best part of her blush, Annabeth adjusted her crooked armour and got to her feet, hauling Percy up with her.

"Got a plan?" She asked. Malcolm looked at her coldly.

"You clearly don't," Clarisse said, her voice shaking with laughter.

"Actually," Annabeth said, "I do."

"Come on, Miss Princess," Clarisse hissed at Annabeth, who was trying fruitlessly to righten her armour.

"Oh I'm sorry - My armour's crooked. I need to fix this if you want me to able to fight at all."

"Well if you hadn't been indulging in such... Things with Percy, it wouldn't be." Clarisse snapped back.

"Shut up."

"No."

Clarisse and Annabeth rounded the corner abruptly. They glared at each other, signalled to Percy and Malcolm on the other side of the clearing, and as a unit, the four of them charged.


	34. Chapter 34

The first battle was over before it really started. As Annabeth predicted, there were some hidden guards, and such two sentries leapt out of the trees, rolled, and appeared before the four Blues, swords already drawn. Annabeth made short work of one, and saw Percy in her peripheral vision doing the same with the other. No maiming was allowed, so Annabeth settled for a glancing, shallow blow to each limb, and the pommel of her dagger in between the eyes. Unconscious, the guard, who Annabeth saw with a little stab of guilt was Lacey from the Aphrodite cabin, crumpled to the floor. Then to Annabeth's chagrin, a familiar figure materialised before her with a savage smile on her face.

"Hello, Annabeth," Piper said, her multicoloured eyes sparkling beneath her visor. She thrust towards Annabeth, but Annabeth parried and forced her friend backwards.

"Long time no see, Pipes," Annabeth feinted left, and struck Piper on her arm. Piper winced, but kept smiling jovially.

"Going back to school tomorrow?" Piper asked, her tone light and conversational. She charged Annabeth, but Annabeth caught the attack on the pommel of her knife, a manoeuvre only the most skilled dagger-wielder could have achieved.

"Yep. You'll be staying here this week?" Annabeth's blow was caught by Piper, but using the momentum she had gained from pushing Piper back, Annabeth charged her friend, and promptly disarmed her.

"I go to my dad's for weekends," Piper's sword was on the ground, but in an instant, she rolled to the side, and came up holding her cornucopia, no doubt stored in her combat boots - not regulation shoes, but not against the rules. She came at Annabeth with a flurry of roast chicken, steak sandwiches and hams.

"Mmm. Do stop by my place some time?" Annabeth deflected the storm of meat showering over her, and knocked her dagger against her friends sword: Blade to blade, metal clanging on metal.

"I'll try. What about this coming Saturday. Is one o'clock good?" Piper asked, trying to no avail to parry against Annabeth's furious attack.

"Sounds like a plan- And, oh. Don't take this personally." Annabeth whistled under her breath - not the most subtle of signs, but a sign all the same - and Percy, across from her, repeated the gesture to Clarisse. Clarisse ran to Jason, who Percy was fighting, and engaged him in a brutal swedge. Meanwhile, Percy abandoned his post, and sprinted towards the red flag before them. And as this was happening, Annabeth hit her friend between the eyes. "Sorry," She muttered to Piper as her friend fell to the ground and grabbed the daughter of Aphrodite's cornucopia lest anything happen to it lying in the woods. Then, with the four unconscious bodies lying in her wake, Annabeth ran after Percy, Clarisse and Malcolm.

As they sprinted through the woods to the creek, they only encountered two attacks. On the first one, Clarisse slashed with her sword and gave a swift kick behind the knees to their oppressor, and on the second, Percy clubbed him around the head with his own flagstaff. That was a pride that might never heal. Eventually, after running for a quarter of an hour, the sound of gushing water could be heard. It sounding like a bubbling concoction, or even just the pleasant sound of her father's stew boiling on the stove. Waiting for them by the creek was a line of campers, each wearing a ferocious expression on his face. Whilst this might have caused some perturb to any other kid, this was Percy Jackson. Looking untroubled, the son of Poseidon merely waved a hand, and a large wave kissed the shore, dragging a flock of screaming campers with it. The group leapt over the river, and landed steadily on the other side to the furious cheers of their teammates. Percy grinned and bowed.

Chiron trotted up then, conch horn in his hand. "Well done, Blues."

"Thank you sir." Percy said, grinning.

"Any casualties?" Chiron asked. As if on cue, the four unconscious Reds - Piper, Jason, Lacey and, as it turned out, Harley - were carried out on makeshift stretchers, along with two Blues: a knocked out Austin and rather severely bleeding Nico. A little sheepishly, Annabeth placed the cornucopia besides her friend, and out of the corner of her eye, saw Will barrelling down the bank. "Nico?" Will asked. He pushed aside his boyfriend's attendants, who were tying bandages around Nico's fresh wounds. "You're doing it too tight" Will snapped, grabbing a bandage from the first aid pack besides them. "This is how you do it," He said, demonstrating quite exaggeratedly the proper way to tie a bandage. "And to top it all of you need a little..." Will glanced up and smiled in a surprisingly joking way. He spread his hands, and wiggled them theatrically. "You need a little... Love. You should know all about that Percy. Eh Annabeth?" The campers laughed appreciatively, and Annabeth's face felt a little warm, but yet she rolled her eyes, smiling happily, despite the slight ignominy. From the stretcher came a quiet chuckle.

"You really are a dork, you know that, right?" Nico said, his voice slightly slurred. Will kissed his hand dramatically.

"I know sunshine. Now come over here Percy, show off those muscles and help me carry this stretcher."

One hour later, Annabeth was standing in a flannel pyjamas, staring into the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. Once done, she spat into the mirror and washed her face thoroughly, until the remnants of dirt from rolling around in the dirt and fight with Piper had disappeared without a trace. There was a rap on the door.

"Hurry up, Annabeth! There's an entire cabin waiting their turn," shouted the familiar voice of Malcolm. Annabeth scowled at her reflection in the mirror.

"Alright, Alright! I'm just brushing my teeth." Annabeth plucked up her toothbrush and placed it back in the pot the cabin used for such brushes. Then she dried her face on a towel and stalked gracefully out of the room, almost flinging the door into Malcolm. She gestured largely to the door.

"Your bathroom, sir."

"Thank you, gods."

Annabeth poked her tongue out at him, and half strode, half tripped into her bed. She slid into her berth, smiling at the familiar feel of her covers over her body and the pillow beneath her head. There were her books and magazines bedsides her bed. Her parka hanging by the door. Her chest filled with her clothes. It was almost surreal, the familiarity of it. Like greeting an old friend after many years apart, even if it had just been barely five months - four really. And so, like she always did, Annabeth grabbed her book. And like she always did, she read and listened to the bumbling around her as her siblings got ready for bed. And as she always did, she immersed herself in that storybook world that was so far away, yet only in her hands. Because she could read and read and read, and slowly, the world would fade away leaving only her and the magical land hidden between strings of ink on a page.

It was five minutes to light outs when there was the knock on the door, and the entire cabin was indulging in peaceful pastimes like reading or writing. Malcolm, who was nearest the door, opened it a crack. He took one look at who stood beyond it, sighed deeply, turned to Annabeth and proclaimed with great clarity: "It's for you."

"What? Who is it?"

"Percy."

"Tell him to go away -I'm tired."

"Talk to him yourself." Malcolm let the door swing open to reveal a very awake looking Percy, wearing nothing but swim shorts and a towel around his neck. Annabeth sighed and turned on her front to face the boy at the door. "What do you want Seaweed Brain?"

"I'm going swimming. Wanna come?"

"I'm exhausted. And besides, I'd rather not be a Harpy's dinner." Annabeth groaned.

"You won't be. Besides, do you really want to go sleep?" There wasn't any malice in those words, only raw concern. Did she want sleep? Gods of Olympus, more than anything. But did she want to go to sleep, as such? Well, that was another matter. Annabeth's cabin knew about the nightmares well. They understood why, and understood the constant fear wrought down on her, in those dark, bleak nighttimes. Should she go or not? This wasn't a question Annabeth had any wish to contend with this late into the night.

"I don't know, um-" She began.

"Go." Cut a voice through the air. Annabeth stared incredulously at Malcolm. "Go," the boy repeated. "If it'll help you sleep easier, go." Malcolm's tone was almost imploring.

"You've certainly changed, Malcolm," Annabeth noted. Malcolm nodded.

"We all have. Live a little. Just go swimming. You won't be able to sleep anyhow, you have nothing to lose."

Annabeth huffed a little, and glanced at Percy who pulled his pouty seal-face. "But if you're caught, it won't just be trouble with the harpies- It'll be trouble with Chiron too." Annabeth muttered.

"Please," Percy pleaded. "You don't even have to swim- I just have a burning desire to. Besides, I've got drinks." Percy held up a six pack of San Pellegrino. Annabeth felt herself melting under the gazes of her cabin. Eventually, after a time that could have been seconds or minutes or hours, Annabeth sighed deeply. "I won't swim, but I'll come, if only to make sure you don't do something rash and get caught." Percy grinned joyfully. "Oh, and if I get eaten," Annabeth continued, "It's you and Malcolm's fault. And I expect a nice eulogy at my funeral. Like I made at your funeral two years ago, Perce. 'Bravest girl I ever knew,' and all that stuff"

"You got it," Percy said, "Come one." Annabeth sighed one more time and grabbed her rumpled hoodie at the foot of her bed. "Lights out!" She called as she ducked out of the cabin and into the biting night air.

Annabeth and Percy skirted behind the cabins quietly as cats. They kept to the shadows, sticking to them like flies in a web. Becoming them even. And if anybody had chanced to look out of the window now, they would have seen nothing but the vibrant hearth of Hestia, merrily crackling, and an assortment of various different cabins standing proudly against the night landscape. Once they had broken free of the embrace of the cabins, they leapt behind the dunes, fast and graceful like asps, relying only on the fine bed of sand and the tufts of spiky grass to conceal them. Percy seemed to danced as he padded out onto the beach. He ran into the sea, pausing only to ask quietly her if she was sure she didn't want to swim. 'What? In my Pyjamas? ' Annabeth had asked him, waved her hand in dismissal and popped her soda. She took a long drain and watched him shrug and sprint into the sea. As soon as the brine touched him, he seemed rejuvenated. He dove into an oncoming wave, and for a moment was gone from sight. Then he appeared little way up, covered in kelp, and Annabeth laughed.

After a bit, Percy came up out of the water, and sat besides her on the sand. He leaned over and opened a can. Then he put it to his lips, closed his eyes and leaned back against the dune, taking a long swig of lemonade.

"Back to school tomorrow, huh?" Percy asked.

"I don't want to leave."

"Me neither."

They were silent then. A comfortable silence that settled like a shawl over their shoulders. They just sat there, drinking in each other's presence, drawing in all the comfort the other gave. Annabeth was glad for this little escape. To be able to just be here, untouched by the phantoms, the demons, the shadows of the world. Of the dark corners and secluded alleys. Of the overcast sky that covered the sun and the rain that washed away the warmth of the fires and the blood in your veins. At one point, they kissed a kiss that rattled the world and shook the sky with a shower of fireworks. At another point, they were slumped against each other exchanging nonsensical snippets of conversation. And it was such talk that lulled Annabeth. Such that made her content to close her eyes, and lean against Percy, and make way for the fatigue closing in on her eyelids. They didn't mean it. Not for the closing of the eyes, not for the dimming of the mind, not for the cloud around them. Not for the slumber. They didn't mean it at all.

Annabeth's eyes fluttered open. She stared about herself, confused for a moment. Where was she? There was sand beneath her - that wasn't right. And why was the sea there? And why was the sky pink? And this figure besides her and - Oh gods. Something clicked inside her, and Annabeth stifled a gasp. She shook Percy roughly awake.

"Wha-? It's dawn?" Percy sat up and glanced around him. Then he unleashed a creative stream of colourful curses with great profanity. "We need to get to back to out cabins now. Before someone finds us. Like a very lost surfer, a harpy, or worst of all, Chiron." Annabeth nodded. She sprang to her feet, dragging Percy up with her. Not bothering about the noise they were making, the pair sprinted up the beach and. The shadows were against them now, and as Percy and Annabeth stepped onto the dew-ridden grass they found themselves suddenly very expose. Percy swore.j

Annabeth took a deep breath and ran as fast as her feet could carry her to her cabin. The dew wet her bare feet, the fire seemed to cackle. Annabeth's heart was in her throat, because if she and Percy were seen, the teasing may never cease. She breathed a sigh of relief when she reached her cabin, slipping in quiet as a mouse, thankful that everybody was already asleep. Everybody that was, except for Malcolm who sat hunched on his bed. He looked up sharply as Annabeth came in. 'Where were you?' he mouthed.

'Fell asleep,' Annabeth mouthed back. She sat besides her brother and looked at him worriedly. "Are you okay?" She whispered. Malcolm shrugged helplessly.

"Can't sleep," He whispered back

"Why not?"

"I'm too worried."

"What of?"

"My father. My sisters. Money is tight, I'm not sure how they're doing. I can't e-mail them because they don't have internet access. I can't Iris message them anymore because I'm not sure where in New York they live. I don't even know if they can afford food, certainly not medical care if - gods forbid- the need calls."

Annabeth was, for once, unable to say anything. She didn't want to pity him. She knew what pity felt like. Knew how horrible it was when people looked down on you with those eyes like empty tunnels, sucking all the light away. She wanted to extend a hand -but wasn't sure how, wasn't sure what to do. In a way, Annabeth understood him. She recalled those months on the run, forever unsure what was about to happen. Like a train turning a sudden corner and running headlong into a boulder. So instead she did the only thing she could. She put an arm around him and gave her brother a supportive squeeze.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," She told him. Malcolm shut his eyes tight.

"I hope so."

The two children stayed like that until the light changed from hazy and pink, slowly to a brighter, steadier glow, and the night waved goodbye with a bouquet of wilted roses in his hand.


	35. Chapter 35

At around eight in the morning, the cabin first began to stir. It was also the time when Annabeth received a nasty shock. She and Malcolm where half asleep, leaning against the wall behind them, and were awoken by one of their siblings shaking them roughly from their stupor.  
"Guys?" A disembodied voice said. Annabeth opened one eye. "Yeah?"  
"Are you okay?"  
"Why wouldn't we be?"  
"Well anyhow, you have school, I believe. At nine."  
"School?" Annabeth's thoughts were sluggish as she tried to make sense of the word. Her brain was numb like ice, the word hacking fruitlessly at it like a saw. And then there was a click like someone turning on a light switch and the realisation came crashing down around her. Annabeth shot up as fast as lightning and let out a stream of colourful curses. Whereupon, in the corner of her eye she saw one of her siblings cover the ears of their youngest brother at such profanities.  
" _School_. Oh gods." Annabeth groaned and bounded off the bed to her wardrobe. She flung open her closet and pulled out the clothes she had brought with her yesterday, then ducked into the bathroom to get changed. She scrubbed furiously at her teeth, washed her face and raced out of the room, grabbing her hoodie on her departure.  
"See you in a month," she said to her siblings. "Enjoy your life of canoeing and sword fighting as I struggle through spelling tests."  
"We will!" Someone yelled, and she closed door to her cabin with a bang.

Annabeth ran up to the dining pavilion, and was met with the faces of Mr D, Chiron and Percy, sitting at their respective tables.

"Am I late?" She asked. Chiron nodded, which did nothing to Annabeth's welling discomfort. "A little, child, but if you eat quickly we can still make it on time."  
Annabeth made to her cabin's table, and stared down at her plate. What did she want? Waffles would be nice. Immediately, such pastries appeared onto her plate, along with a refreshing glass of juice, which she drained in a matter of seconds. The waffle was warm in her mouth, and brought her happy memories of picnics in the park and the sun against her back. Annabeth devoured it, relishing in the beautiful, glorious thoughts that came with each bite. When she was done, she set the plate aside and waited for her companions to finish with their own meals: a sliver of toast for Chiron and a stack of pancakes for Percy. With a contented sigh, Annabeth leaned back and pulled out her book.

Ten minutes later, a party made up of Annabeth, Percy, Chiron and Argus piled into the van that was to take them to Goode. Chiron pulled out a collection of Frank Sinatra's, and in a matter of seconds, an awful melody resembling squawking birds was filling the vehicle. Annabeth and Percy glanced at each other and grinned, repressing laughter. Argus winked one of his many eyes on the back of his head and presently, the three of them were stifling fits of giggles. Once the chuckles had quelled, Annabeth took out her mobile phone. Her messaging icon read she had fifty messages. Annabeth bit her lip. For her, that was an ungodly amount. Tentatively, she pressed the app and opened up iMessage. What surprised Annabeth the most was that only two of those messages were from father: one asking her to congratulate Grover on his behalf, and the other wishing her a good time. The next surprise was Helen, asking her opinion on wether or not they should do a family day not to the beach the next Sunday. Finally, Sally, asking how she was doing. The rest of the forty six were either spam, or messages on the Seven's group chat. They all wrote in it a lot, making the most of the novelty of having phones after Annabeth had urged them to damn the monsters and purchase a mobile. It made organising days out infinitely easier, but there was always that annoying buzzing in her pocket when Jason shared a ridiculous meme, and Hazel would immediately text back, asking what it meant. But to be fair, Annabeth did enjoys those satires Frank posted. There was never a day when Donald Trump drawn with an even bigger head than he already had wasn't needed.

After little more than thirty minutes, the van pulled up outside Goode High School. Percy and Annabeth climbed out of the back, and helped down Chiron, who was in his wheelchair form. Then they waved to Argus, who wished them a good day, and watched the familiar van disappear into the metropolis. Lost among the endless array of yellow taxis and beeping horns.

"Well," Chiron said, yawning widely. "I'm going to go to the staff room, and have a nice cup of coffee."  
"Oh nice. Can I have a cup please?" Percy asked.  
"Sorry- staff only."  
"That's too bad."  
"See you later, have fun." Chiron said. Annabeth snorted and watched as he wheeled away into the school building. Then she turned to Percy and rubbed her eyes.  
"Home room?"  
"Bell's about to go- yeah."

It was about as easy, to get to home room, as it was crossing the desert bare-footed. The throng of beefy teenagers was thick, like trying to elbow oneself through a solid wall of muscle. But Percy and Annabeth did their best. They'd fought their way through hell after all- they should be able to conquer this crowd without a struggle.

The first stop was the locker room. Annabeth pulled out her books and emptied them into her Nike rucksack. Then, swinging it over one shoulder, she went to join Percy, who was struggling with trying to cram all of his supplies into the tiny bag he had picked up from camp.  
"A little help?" She asked coyly. Percy smiled mischievously: a smile that made her heart ache and die and yet dance and feel so alive all at the same time.  
"I'm good," Percy tucked the last book into his pocket- an even tighter squeeze than his bag - and sighed deeply. Then he entwined his finger's through her's, and tugged her into the corridor, where Paul's classroom and rest of the world awaited. Once again, they stepped out into the battle. Into the war zone of whooping boys and laughing girls, and laughing boys and whooping girls and the kids who pushed aside their peers as they sprinted through the crowd and the children and the youths and the teenagers and the ones who had their whole life ahead of them and knew it. And in their knowing of such thing, they prowled the halls like tigers, exchanging insults and banter, and even surreptitiously, though not as discreetly as they may have thought, packets of cigarettes which they slipped to each other like trading cards. Annabeth would never understand how people chose to smoke- to intoxicate themselves with drugs or even a circus act like drinking fire. It was bad enough to everyday face a threat to your life- but to do so will fully. It didn't make sense to the daughter of Athena that people, save the, to put it blatantly, suicidal, should endanger the precious, fragile shard of life their mortal lives were.

Just at that moment, the bell pealed through the corridors, indicating very surely that Percy and Annabeth were late. Annabeth frowned, biting back on the numerous profanities rising up on her throat, and shoved aside a petite girl who was leaping into the paths of freshmen to make them jump. The girl cursed Annabeth, but the demigod made an obscene gesture with one hand, and continued to forge ahead to the outraged shouts of the girl and her clique, and Percy's guffaws. Annabeth just deflected the piece of scrunched up paper that came her way, and with a final push, broke free of the dense mob and almost toppled into the foyer from the momentum, bringing Percy down with her. But reflexes from ADHD, training and being a demigod alike saved her, and Annabeth allowed herself to be moved forwards. Once steady on her feet, and ensuring Percy was too, the pair darted up the final flight of stairs, down the corridor and tumbled into home room, to the slightly bewildered looks of their companions. Paul looked up from his computer screen and smiled wryly. "You're late."

"It would seem so, _sir,_ " Percy proclaimed.  
"And why would that be?"  
Percy smiled winningly. "Late start without you herding me to get up."  
"That, I can believe." Paul responded, looking down fondly at his step-son. "Any how, you and Annab- Miss Chase have detention after school."  
Percy gaped. "No!" He protested, "Oh come on, you can't do that. You're my step-dad. Besides, it's not our fault if the school can't afford bigger corridors and everyone just kind of melds together in an impenetrable walk of iron."  
"There's your English class for today." Paul said, "Now go an sit down, before I triple your detention."  
Percy sighed somewhat melodramatically.

Hours later, Annabeth, Percy, Freddy Krueger, The Joker, a guy called Felix (nicknamed quite simply, 'Cat') and two other girls - which Annabeth was glad for, for she rather wanted female company - called Natalia and Annie (Cinderella and Harley Quinn), sat in a circle under a large tree, devouring their respective lunches.

"So you're Annabeth?" Natalia, alias Cinderella, asked.  
"Last time I checked," Annabeth replied, looking up momentarily from the slice of pizza she had bought.  
"Nice to finally meet you. The way Percy talked about you, we figured you just be some kind of goddess."  
Annabeth raised her eyebrows, if not at the remark, but the eeriness of how near to the truth they had come. Like a knife just missing its mark by just a hairbreadth.  
"Can't imagine why." Annabeth said, glancing sidelong at Percy who was a fierce shade of puce. Annabeth playfully kicked his foot.  
"Well," Natalia said, "You need a nickname."  
Annabeth sigh, and looked at them skeptically. "Annabeth's fine."  
"Nah. Let's call you Hera."  
Annabeth just about choked on her sandwich. "No. Please not that."  
Harley Quinn raised an eyebrow, but no one except Percy who was trying hard not to laugh, commented.  
"Well she can't very well be Cinderella as well," Krueger said to the clique. Cat shrugged. "Aelin Galathynius."  
Annabeth grinned. "That's fine with me."  
Percy looked between them, confused, as did every one else. "Who's Aelin Galathynius?" He asked.  
"She's from Throne of Glass," Cat and Annabeth said in unison.  
"Nerds," muttered Percy. Still, he extended a hand to his girlfriend.  
"Pleasure to meet you, Aelin. My name's Jack Sparrow."  
"The pleasure is all mine, sir."

 **(A/N: Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter**? **)**


	36. Chapter 36

By the time Social Studies rolled around, Annabeth already had four pieces of homework, none of which she was at all inclined to do. But then, she knew she must. There wasn't any point in more detentions, this was a fresh start after all. At her side, Percy was avidly complaining about the unjustness of Paul and how horrible his maths teacher was. (Who did, admittedly, seem to be a bitch.)Just then, Chiron wheeled out of the class room, cutting Percy off mid-rant. He smiled at the class, a warm, friendly smile Annabeth knew so well, and ushered them inside.

The first thing Annabeth realised upon entering the classroom, was that she and Percy's poster from yesterday, now hung proudly on the wall. The second was that on the board was a powerpoint presentation, and blinking up at her was the letters 'The Twelve Olympians,' with a sub-title about how one was unable to wholly explore Ancient Greek civilisation, without first pursuing the legends of the gods. Containing a smile, Annabeth wove through the forest of desks until she reached she and Percy's at the front, then began to pull out her books and pencil case. Percy stumbled over and creased his brow in something that could have been concentration or frustration or both, as he tried to pull his utensils out of the tiny bag he had. Exasperated, Annabeth sighed and snatched the bag from him.

After two attempts, one following Percy's method, and the other tipping the bag upside down, which proved successful, Percy's supplies were finally on the desk before him. The class sat watching a burlesque video on the Twelve Olympians, describing each in turn. They were supposed to make notes, but understandably, Percy and Annabeth spent most of their time gawking at the horribly inaccurate representations of the deities, rather than actually writing. It wasn't as if they needed to any way. At that moment, the clip turned to describe Athena, and in the corner of her eye, Annabeth saw Chiron tilt his head towards her. At first, Annabeth watched horror-struck, then a picture was depicted of her mother riding an owl through the heavens, her Aegis flying out like a superhero's cape behind her (Really?), and she buried her head in her hand, praying to all the gods that Percy at her side would cease his laughter before Athena came down on him with an Aegis and a spear.

The last Olympian who's story was recounted was Poseidon. After a brief introduction to such god, it showed some well-known legends surrounding him. There was the story of Amphitrite, of him and Demeter (Which shouldn't have been shown in class), and of course, the battle over Athens between Poseidon and Athena. At this, Percy and Annabeth had been compelled to comment. "Horses are a better gift," Percy was whispering under his breath. Annabeth dug him in the ribs. "This was Greece. Hardly agricultural then, olives were easy to grow and provided food for everyone." Annabeth hissed back.

"You must get very sick of all those olives." Percy retorted.

"Well you'd get even sicker if you had nothing to eat!"

"Want to go and get an olive pizza after school?"

"Deal."

From the front, Chiron looked up and frowned. "Mr Jackson, Miss Chase? If you would please stop talking and plan your dates later?" The children in question glanced up, and Annabeth made a point of yawning largely, whereupon it was Percy's turn to elbow her.

"Ow," Annabeth hissed, rubbing her side. "You have sharp elbows."

"Ditto."Percy muttered.

"Unless you want detention, I would advise you both to be quiet and make notes on the subject of the gods." Chiron said, his voice raised.

"B-but, sir," Percy began, he stood up. "I don't need - I am personally offended by the mockery it makes of the gods, of Poseidon in particular." He smiled mischievously, if a little arrogantly too. The kids in the class looked up curiously, and began to grin in the way one does when expecting entertainment, a break from the tiresome lesson before them. Annabeth stood up besides her boyfriend. "And Athena. Never seen anything more disgraceful." Apparently, Chiron's patience was already worn, because he just rubbed his brow tiredly, and signalled to the door.

"Get out. I'll deal with you later."

Annabeth made a face. "With pleasure - I came here to learn." She grabbed Percy's arm and marched him out of the room towards the corridor.

"How long is left of the lesson?" Percy asked. They leant against the wall in the hallway outside, and only now realised that they were fated to stand here for the entirety of the period. Annabeth shrugged, and checked her watch. "Forty minutes," she said.

"You're kidding?" When Annabeth didn't respond, he sighed deeply and crouched down against the wall. "Do you have anything we could do?" He asked. Annabeth heaved her backpack off her shoulder and rummaged through it, brow creased. After a few minutes, she made a satisfied noise and pulled out a deck of cards. She grinned.

"Poker?" Percy questioned, but was dismissed with Annabeth shaking her head. "If we get found playing poker, we'll probably be suspended." She reasoned.

"True- how about a game of Spit."

"Oh, you know I'll kick your butt."

"I take it that: It's on?"

"It's on."

From years of life-saving reflexes, the couple were profoundly learnt - and profoundly good - at the game of Spit. As they placed their cards down, their hands flew with the speed of a falcon, round after round of slapping down on the lowest deck with such brutal force, the poor soul who put their hand down first received violent vibrations tingling up his or her arm. Like little daggers, javelins furiously embedding themselves in the person in question's flesh. But then they would always look up at each other and smile apologetically, and then continue with their ruthless endeavours of trying to bruise the other's hand and leave him trailing in the dust in the game. Annabeth was, without a doubt, winning. But Percy was not giving up. He was neck deep in cards, and had no chance of winning, yet he was also neck deep in determination. And, surprisingly, concentration. They were so immersed in their game - or battle, was a better suited word - that they did not notice when a hush descended over the class in the room behind them, and the door creaked open to reveal a very angry looking Chiron.

Chiron rapped his wooden sword against the wall, and Percy and Annabeth jumped.

"Hey, Chiron?" Percy said uncertainly. Chiron scowled at him, deep lines etched into his forehead.

"Care to say what that was, Percy? Annabeth?"

Annabeth sighed, and shrugged helplessly, slapping her hand down on the smallest pile at the same time. Well, Annabeth glanced at her cards. She'd won. Which meant she could give Chiron her full attention - which scared her a little. She'd never seen Chiron properly angry, and it admittedy scared her a little. Chiron had been around for three millennia - there wasn't an argument he couldn't win.

"I don't know," She told Chiron. "I'm bored -I already know all this. And I came here to learn, not to have a chaperone looking over me all the time."

"Well I'm here, like it or not. And you both were incredibly insolent."

Percy showed the barest hint of a gulp. "Sorry, sir." He said, glancing down at his Adidas trainers.

"I'm sure you are, but nevertheless, you both have detention."

"We already have one," Annabeth said, "Late to home room."

Chiron sighed deeply, looking between the pair as though they were the most contumacious children he had ever had the misfortune to clap eyes upon. "Well you were the one who woke up late, child."

"Well that was hardly my fault," Annabeth replied, trying with all her might to keep from snapping. Chiron made a dubious sound, but did not contradict.

"Look, just come for fifteen minutes after seeing Mr Blofis."

Annabeth groaned.

Twenty minutes later, Percy and Annabeth sat in their home room, feet propped up on the table, leaning back in their chairs as though they didn't have a care in the world. Which to anyone who knew them personally would have seemed the most ironic thing they had ever heard. Paul was at the front, marking a seemingly endless mountain of student's work. The guy looked bored, groaning repeatedly as he filled each book with an ample series of red pen.

"How long left?" Percy asked, as politely as he could muster. Paul glanced up at his step-son, then at the clock and the wall.

"Just about now, and woah, hold up... I need to talk to you about something."

Percy and Annabeth were halfway out of their seats, but sat back down suddenly.

"Mm?" Percy asked. "If it's about me finishing all the biscuits, I'm -"

"What!?" Paul asked, "No. No, no, though I was wondering. No, I just wanted to ask - I've been meaning to ask Annabeth if she'd like to come to us for five days to Montauk this coming winter vacation."

"Seriously!?" Percy and Annabeth exclaimed I unison.

"Mm, yeah. I guess I should ask Frederick and Helen, but would you like to come?"

"Yes!" Annabeth said, her voice freighted with excitement. With sheer joy and a tone teetering on euphoria. "I'm sorry," Annabeth cleared her throat, "That would be amazing - thank you so much!"

"No problem," Paul said, "Now shoo, both of you. I have papers to mark."

Percy doffed an imaginary hat. "Thank you, sir," he proclaimed clearly; eloquently. Paul repeated the gesture, and waved them away.

"Let's go to Chiron's, and then we're free." Percy said once they were halfway down the hall.

"Remember the pizza we were going to have?"

"I'll pay for it."

"What a gentleman- thank you very much."

Chiron's detention flew by in a breeze of failed hang man games, noughts and crosses, and light hearted banter which received some raised eyebrows from Chiron. Ten minutes into the detention, Chiron switches on YouTube.

"Do you have any music preferences?" He asked his students, the kindly aspect to his voice returned. Annabeth shrugged, but Percy leaned forwards, a smile on his face speaking volumes about the advantages he was about to take.

"Don't do Slipknot," Annabeth hissed under her breath. "I'm not sure Chiron will appreciate that."

"Well what will he appreciate: Cacophony of Orpheus?"

Annabeth snorted. "Do Twenty One Pilots or something."

Percy shrugged. "Okay. Hey Chiron, can you put on Goner- Twenty One Pilots."

Chiron looked skeptical and frowned, but put it on anyway. A frown that deepened as the music continued. But even if Chiron was not enjoying the ode, Percy and Annabeth certainly were: loudly singing and drumming on the table, nonchalant to their mentor's curious glances. It was strange, how much the couple enjoyed the music of Twenty One Pilots so much. Perhaps it was because of the lyrics: of how relatable they were, in the way that they could be Ode To Sleep or Stressed Out or Kitchen Sink, and Annabeth would forever be able to pick out something - it be a line or an entire song - that she could relate to. Because though they triggered memories like a gun without the safety on, they were also comforting. They were the lanterns in the dark that showed she was not isolated, and neither was Percy. Because though sometimes she she was by herself, she would never be alone. Not in the way of the ghosts that held her hand or the beautiful, endearing memory of Percy, who was always on her mind with that dishevelled raven hair and those eyes that laughed and danced and smiled, as though the end of the world would never come.

Annabeth and Percy stepped into Annabeth's house tentatively. Dimly, Annabeth was aware that it wasn't the best of ideas to bring Percy here. Her step-mother could respond in anyway, perhaps it was a better idea to just turn around and walk away and- too late. The door swung shut behind them with a resounding bang, and Annabeth and Percy stood alone in the dark corridor, blinking into the shadows. There was the sound of something falling, which Annabeth only later realised must be her keys falling to the ground.

"Annabeth?" Said a voice. A distinctly feminine voice. One thick with authority and the air of someone who was used to issuing commands and those commands to be followed. It was the voice of Helen.

"Hey um... I'm home. I brought Percy with me."

"Oh. You're rather late."

"Well, we arrived late to home room: traffic was... Murder. So naturally, we had detention." Annabeth gripped Percy's arm, and dragged him into the kitchen, where Helen was seated at the table, taking a long drain of coffee. Helen put down the mug and smiled at them, though her eyes where stygian; a cold, hard sheen about them. A muscle feathered in Annabeth's jaw.

"Nice time at camp?" Helen asked, and though no one save those who had lived with her for a long time would have realised, her tone was not wholly sincere.

"Very good time." Annabeth replied, her voice calm and collected

"Sleep okay?"

"Mm... Fairly. We'll just get some snacks and be on our way."

"Where are you going?"

"Just up to my room."

And so, five minutes later, Percy and Annabeth found themselves comfortably sitting on Annabeth's bed, leaning against the wall and (Though at a later date, Annabeth never would have admitted it), taking ridiculous selfies on their phones. Then Annabeth logged into Putlocker, and for the next two hours, they just curled up besides each other and just felt the world fall away as they were swallowed into the world of Harry Potter. To a school with British accents and Latin spells, and a boy so like them, in the way that he had the burden of the world placed upon his shoulders, yet so very, very different. And of course, the pizza made it even better.

(A/N: so... Guys. I'm sorry but I'm being whisked away for ten days, so naturally, unless I find WIFI, which is unlikely, I will be unable to write. Sorry again, but hey... It's the holidays. As much as I'd like to, I can't stay in all day on the computer, I have to go places ?)


	37. Chapter 37

Once Percy had left, after a tight hug and promise to see each other the coming day, Annabeth sat at her desk and pulled out the stack of homework she had received. From sheer laziness, she decided to do Social Studies first, which was two -two hundred maximum, one hundred word minimum- summaries on how the gods had influenced firstly modern, then ancient civilisation. For modern, Annabeth was tempted to write ' _Heck, they influenced my entire life: The death of several of my friends, my facing my mortal enemy, falling into Tartarus, and oh yes, two wars. Also a lightning bolt that Zeus was too careless to take proper care of_ ,' but somehow, she knew that would not sit well with Chiron.  
In the end, she settled on a description on, for modern, something about architecture and sacrilege of shrines, which was Chiron expected of her. Ancient civilization was easier. All Annabeth had to do was a short description about sacrifices and pleasing the gods. She exhaled. This was easy.

The furious ringing of a phone jolted Annabeth from her concentration. She frowned, and palmed her mobile, which now read 'Rachel,' blinking up at her in neon letters. Glad for the distraction, Annabeth swiped to answer, and held the phone to her ear.

"Hey Rachel," Annabeth said, "Missed you at camp yesterday."  
There was a deep breath at the end of the line. "That was because I was doing an exam,"  
"You? Cool, go okay?"  
"That's why I called," Rachel said, her voice had assumed an almost euphoric tone, "I got into Brooklyn Art!"  
"Really!? Oh gods, well done," It wasn't hard for Annabeth to sound happy -she truly was. There was a sort of elated feeling bubbling inside her, and she remembered a time when she had hated Rachel. Hated Rachel because... Well, a simple childish matter. One Annabeth felt uncomfortable admitting. She felt immature doing so, unreasonable and petty. But now here they were, two years later, perhaps three, with the phone calls and the jokes and the laughter, and a rope of friendship tying them together. The history behind them was buried.

"Annabeth!" Yelled a voice from downstairs, "Family meeting!" Annabeth frowned. Family was a versatile word. It was as changeable as the tide, she knew that firsthand. Yet, she was included in this one, it seemed. And the sound of those two words, of a family meeting she was included in, warmed her heart significantly.

"Well," she told Rachel, "I gotta go,"  
"Oh. That's too bad, see you soon,"  
"See you. And for the record... How do you spell onomatepia- I'm doing homework and we lose marks if we spell things wrong and-"( **A/N: No, seriously, how?)**  
There was a laugh on the other side. "And you want to be the best?"  
"No! No, well... Yes. But that's besides the point."  
Rachel laughed again, and spelled it out slowly, which Annabeth noted down.  
"Annabeth!" Yelled her dad's voice.  
"Coming!" Annabeth shouted back. "Well, congratulations Rachel- nice talking to you."  
"Thanks. See you."

Annabeth poured herself a glass of juice, and slid into the chair. Her family was already there, comfortably seated in a scene that to the casual observer, would have seemed relaxed, possibly even jubilant, but at closer inspection showed signs of frayed patience and a slight shock. Or at least the latter feelings on the face of Frederick Chase.

"Nice of you to join us, Annabeth," Frederick said, and Annabeth nodded.  
"It's my pleasure- what did you want to talk to us about?"  
"Well... Tomorrow night, we're going out to dinner."  
"Cool!" Bobby exclaimed, his voice freighted with the songs of innocence. Of enthusiasm and joy. "Where?"  
"The Olive Garden- near Times Square." Mr Chase replied, looking down at his younger child, a fond gleam in his eye. Matthew creased his brow. "So why this tension?"He asked. Frederick took a deep breath.  
"We're having dinner with Magnus and his family."  
Annabeth, who had previously been taking a disinterested drain of her glass, now choked it out. Her father whipped around to face her.  
"Y-you mean," she began, "You mean like my-"  
"-Like your cousin, yes. His mother contacted me, and we decided to set aside our differences, and meet up. What do you think?"  
 **(A/N: I am just going to make Magnus an ordinary mortal teenager because his being a demigod would distract too much from the storyline- sorry)**  
Annabeth drew in breath. "I haven't seen or heard from Magnus, Aunt Natalie or Uncle Henry in ten years, I had no idea they were even still alive! It's sort of a lot to take in."  
"Well, grandma gave me my sister's number and..."  
Annabeth slumped back in her chair. "Well... I was friends with Magnus wasn't I?" She asked.  
"Yes. And Bobby and Matthew have never met their cousin or aunt and uncle, so they will now." Frederick responded. Annabeth wiped her brow and stood up.  
"Well, if that's all you have to say... I think I'm gonna go to bed before another long lost relative crops up out of nowhere."  
A lot of things changed in just a few sentences and the shortest of meetings.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Annabeth awoke to a strange noise.

 _Plink_.  
Annabeth gulped, trying to keep the nightmare from crashing down around her. She squinted into the inky darkness nervously, biting her lip to contain a whimper that was clawing it's way up her throat, scratching furiously at her jugular like a knife. She was Annabeth Chase. She didn't whimper. But still, there was the noise at the back of her throat, there was the phantoms in the corner. And there was she, burying herself deep into the covers like a little lost child, blinking back the tears scalding her eyelids. Nothing came from tears, so why must they fall?  
 _Plink_.  
Annabeth tentatively peered out over her covers and into her room. Everything seemed so innocent, yet so guilty. As though every dark shadow, every pile of clothes, every flash of her computer light, were a monster.  
 _Plink_.  
This time, Annabeth jumped, startled. She scanned her bedroom, her heart in her throat, her pulse racing, her palms sweating and-  
 _Plink._  
 _Plink._  
Annabeth jumped again, listening for that sound again. And- gods, it was probably just rain. In fact it _was_ just rain. That was affirmed. She would go back to sleep, fight another fruitless battles with the nightmares, rest her head against the pillow, and soon morning would come, and the demons would go away, so that-  
 _Plink_.  
Studying the window carefully, Annabeth frowned. Sure it was just rain, but... Did normal rain make the window shake like that, so that even in this dim light, even through the curtains, she could see the window shake with every drop.  
 _Plink_.  
Annabeth sighed deeply, and pushed herself of her bed, the covers trailing behind her like a bridal veil. She padded across her room towards the window, ignoring the ghosts that stood in the shadows - little wraiths: remnants of her nightmares and her history. Annabeth pulled aside the window and hoisted up her window. She stuck her head outside, and inhaled the crisp night air, the wind that kissed her cheeks, the stars that stared down at her. Though one thing she did not inhale was rain, not even its scent. Confused, Annabeth glanced down, and there, in her front lawn was a familiar face. One that looked porcelain and pure, bathed in the moonlight. One who's green eyes glittered and their mouth quirked into a side-long smile and it was... Percy. And he was staring up at her with a grin that split his face in half, and there was Annabeth with a fluttering heart and a question scrawled across her face.

"You're throwing pebbles at my window!?" Annabeth called down as quietly as she dared.

"Classy aren't I?" Percy replied from the ground.  
"No, you're cheesy," Annabeth sighed.  
"Perhaps," Percy said, "Where was I? Oh yes, Annabeth, Annabeth let down your golden hair!"  
Annabeth laughed loudly. There was the sound of movement from Helen and Frederick's bedroom, and Annabeth clapped a hand to her mouth. She palmed the paperweight on her desk, and held it up for Percy to see.  
"I have a paperweight in my hand," she whispered, "And I have no qualms about throwing it at your head."  
"You wouldn't dare!"  
"Just because I don't want to, doesn't mean I won't- what are you doing here anyway?" That was the million dollar question, wasn't it?  
"Well, I couldn't sleep, so I came over to see if you wanted to go on a picnic."He said. Annabeth blinked, wondering if she had heard correctly. She leaned further out of the window.  
"Did you say a picnic? _Now_!?" Annabeth asked uncertainly.  
"Well... Yeah." It was only then that Annabeth realised the bicycle behind him. A sleek city bike, with a hamper attached to the rack.  
"As much as I'd love to go, I'm dead if I get caught out of bed," Annabeth hissed into the night. Percy pouted.  
"As am I. Come on Wise Girl! Jut climb out of the window."  
"Fine, fine, I'll come. But I'm not climbing out of the window!"  
"Why not?"  
"Because if there's a way to make this situation even cheesier, it _is_ climbing out of the window! I'm coming out of the front door like a civilised human being."

Two minutes later, still in flannel pyjamas, with her phone in her breast pocket and her arms wrapped tight around her torso to keep out the cold, Annabeth Chase slipped out over the threshold, closing the door with barely a sound. Percy waited for her, leaning against his bike casually.

"Nice to see you."  
"As yourself."  
"Do you want to cycle?"  
Annabeth frowned, possibly for the tenth time that night. "How do we manage that?"  
Percy grinned, and tapped his nose. Then he motioned for her to sit on the seat of the bike, which she did, a certain degree of cautiousness about her. Percy grinned wickedly, and then jumped onto the bike, standing up on the pebbles, he began to to cycle, shouting a shout heavy with embullience as the frigid air whooshed past them.  
"Percy!" Annabeth complained, but she didn't really mind. Didn't mind the chill that wrapped itself around her like a blanket, didn't mind the wobbling of the bike or the hairpin turns. Didn't mind when Percy almost lost control and fell on top of her, or the strange looks they were given by the few pedestrians on the streets of New York. Because yes, it was the streets of New York. And nobody thought any less of a blonde girl in pyjamas and a crazy raven haired boy, who rode the bike in the strangest of ways, and whooped at the top of their lungs, and had a picnic hamper on the bicycle rack in the oldest hours of the night, because this was New York. And nobody cared.

After a time that could have been minutes or hours or maybe even mere seconds, Percy skidded to a stop outside Central Park.

"How awesome was that?" He yelled into the empty trees.  
"That was awesome," Annabeth agreed. She tugged on his arm, and together, the pair plunged into the dark lawns and the pebbled paths of Central Park.

A few minutes, and Percy and Annabeth appeared in the Great Lawn. They ran to the centre, and spread out a blue and black checked picnic blanket onto the grass. Then they gently lay the bike on its side, and sat down on the ground with a satisfied sigh. Percy began to pull out ample goods from the hamper, whilst leaving Annabeth to stare in wonder. She let out a low whistle.

"You certainly came prepared," she mused, as Percy produced a six-pack of Coca Cola. Annabeth leant over, and took a piece of brownie. It crumbled in her mouth, unleashing the delicious, rich taste of chocolate, which washed through body. Wide-eyed, she stared at Percy.  
"And whom do I thank for this delicacy?" She asked.  
"Walmart," Percy replied through a bite of pizza. Annabeth grinned, and took another bite of the food. Then, as if a chain has snapped, she felt suddenly comfortable, all worries of her parents and school and monsters, and even the little things like being in her pyjamas and barefooted, faded away to fine mist that floated away in little vapour clouds. Annabeth smiled to herself, and was vaguely aware of Percy studying her curiously.  
"Why are you smiling so hard?" He asked.  
"I'm just happy."

The night faded in a blizzard of food and laughter and smiles and talking and - to put it blatantly - passionate kisses that left Annabeth tingling all over. It faded in a maelstrom of happiness and joy and jubilance. Faded in a tempest of delirium and hazy memories. Of held hands and of dropping eyelids. There was something spectacular about the night. It was cold and sharp, but beautiful as well. It was one that spoke volumes of serenity and tranquility. Percy and Annabeth lay side by side, troubles melted like paraffin, staring up at the cloudy, mellow Manhattan skyline all around them, and the overcast sky that cloaked them like a blanket. After a little while, Annabeth heaved herself up, her shoulder brushing Percy's as she went."I should get going," she muttered, brushing crumbs off her lap.

"Stay just a little while more," Percy whined, pulled her back down. Annabeth sighed, but let herself be swayed easily. In all honesty, she did not want to leave. Let her dad find her berth empty.  
"Fine," Annabeth lay back down on the blanket, and stared up at the it was strange. Strange how easily she allowed her vision to fog. Strange how easily she allowed her mind to freeze over. Strange how she didn't even resist as the enticing call of sleep reached out to her, and with firm hands, pulled her down, down and under to the land of beautiful dreams and of fairy tale lands.

"Rotten teenagers canoodling in my park!" Growled a voice with a light London accent. Something cold and sharp pressed against Annabeth's back, and she bolted upright, Percy right besides her. Peering down at them was a young woman - Perhaps in her late twenties- with long, curly chestnut hair and green eyes that seemed to reflect the entire city of Manhattan in the dull morning glow. Her name tag, hanging on her bottle green 'Park Staff' uniform, read the name 'Andrea,'. ( **A/N: Basically this 'Andrea' character, is** **SwearItOnTheStyx** **, who when I told her about this character, asked to be her, even if she is a different age. I hope you're satisfied, I made her sound pretty, Annie** ). There was a rake skewered with brown leaves in her hand, and she prodded Annabeth up.

"Come on Pyjama Queen. Get up, Get up. You too Bedhead." Percy hastily got to his feet, yawning.  
"What time is it?" He asked the woman.  
"Eight in the morning." The woman sneered.  
Percy swore deeply and colourfully. "This is getting to be quite a habit," he muttered.  
"I'm dead," Annabeth murmured under her breath.  
"Me too."  
"See you in Elysium Seaweed Brain. It was nice knowing you."  
"I don't care where your going," Andrea snarled, "But get out of my park!" She waved her rake in the air, and Percy and Annabeth tripped over each other trying to retreat. It would be a shame to survive Hell, only to end up impaled by a gardening utensil.  
"We'll just get going now." Percy stammered, gathering the blanket and the wrappers up in his arms. Andrea nodded, and stalked away, furiously shovelling fallen leaves to the side. Annabeth glanced at Percy. Percy glanced at Annabeth. And they burst out laughing and laughing and laughing.

Annabeth's phone rang as they were walking through the network of paths to the exit. Groaning, Annabeth fished it out, and stared anxiously at the name on the screen. 'Dad' was calling her. With closed eyes, Annabeth slid to answer and was immediately greeted by a shout loud, it almost made Annabeth's ears bleed.

"Annabeth Chase, where the hell are you!" Frederick yelled. Annabeth gulped. She saw no point in lying.  
"Central Park," she whispered. There was a silence: a sharp, frigid silence so razor sharp it was a blade. And in those agonising moments, Annabeth made the mistake of glancing at Percy, who mouthing Molly Weasley's: 'Beds empty, no note. You could've been killed! You could've been seen!'  
Annabeth's stifled the laugh that crawled up her throat as she awaited her dad's answer. When it finally came, it was as quiet as a mouse's footsteps, as venomous as a rattlesnake's bite.  
"And what are you doing in Central Park?" Frederick whispered.  
Annabeth glanced helplessly at Percy. "Um... Sleepwalking?" She said, her voice nearer a question than an answer.  
"I believe that no sooner than that Percy was involved in this."  
"Oh good," Annabeth said, forcing her voice bright, "You believe me!"  
"No Annabeth. I don't, and you know that. You are grounded. Grounded okay?"  
"What happens if I say no?"  
"You are grounded for twice as long- come home this instance. We need to talk to you."  
Annabeth swore deeply under her breath.

Percy, ever the gentleman, offered Annabeth his bike, but Annabeth declined. Percy couldn't run to save his life, he needed the bicycle more. Actually, that wasn't true, he had ran to save his lifelong frequent occasions, but still, Annabeth was faster. And besides, the bike was Percy's. And so Annabeth waved a hasty goodbye, and took off sprinting down the road, towards were her house lay somewhere in the depths of New York. Annabeth wove through the streets like a bullet train, barely registering what she was doing. Dimly, she was aware of a few acquaintances - neighbours and classmates, old and new alike - who crossed her path, and shot her curious looks. Mrs Fitzgerald, the old lady next door who had ten cats and one hundred garden gnomes shouted after her, asking if she'd like to stay for tea, and Scotty, the friendly twenty-two year old, and former schoolmate, who lived five doors down waved, and yelled

"Annabeth! Good morning, what's the hurry? Nice PJs by the way."

"Thanks!" Annabeth called over her shoulder, "I'm late for school!"  
"Schools the other way, numpty," Scotty shouted.  
"Not in my pyjamas it isn't," Annabeth said, though did not know if he heard her or not. She skidded in through the gate, her bare feet stinging, and tumbled in through the front door, which was opened by her dad. Not even her lifetime of life-saving reflexes saved her as she toppled to the ground, lying prostate on the floor.  
"Get up, young lady,"Someone spat. Annabeth scrambled to her feet.  
"Sorry," she muttered, aware of her brother's peering curiously down at her from the stairwell.  
"You're grounded for two weeks," Frederick snapped, staring down at his daughter. Annabeth shrugged, and made for the kitchen, but was obstructed by her step-mother.  
"What were you doing in Central Park?" Helen asked. Annabeth tried to dart past her, a familiar flame of anger igniting within her. A flame she realised, was wrong of her, because these consequences were her fault. "None of your concern," she replied bitterly.  
"Yes it is- I'm your step-mother."  
"But you're not my mother," Annabeth muttered, and she knew how stupid she sounded. How ridiculous, cringe-worthy her words were.  
"That is because your mother so happens to be a Greek Goddess!"Helen snapped. "And I am still your legal guardian, as well as your father because like it or not, Athena is not liable, at least in the government's eyes, to serve as your guardian, so with the every right your father has, I am asking you _what were you doing in Central Park?"_  
"I- I don't know."  
"You don't know? You are still in your pyjamas- what the _hell_ are you doing still in your pyjamas?"  
"I said I don't know,"  
"Why are you all wet?"  
"Heck I don't know- the dew. I have to school now!"  
It was hard to stride out looking dignified in flannel pyjamas, but somehow, Annabeth managed it.


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or any of Rick's long, long, list of books and characters. Not yet, not yet. Only my OCs.**

The school day seemed to slip like sand through Annabeth's fingers, and before she knew it, she and Percy were making haste out of the school gates, towards Paul's Prius. Paul, who had nothing to mark and no work left to do, was sitting in the driver's seat, and looked up when his son and Annabeth bounded down the pavement to meet him.

"Hey," he said, "I'll drive you home, Annabeth, where's your house?" Annabeth blinked in surprise.

"Don't worry- you don't have to," She said, but Percy grabbed her arm.

"Yes he does. Come on." Percy told her almost sternly, and gave Paul Annabeth's address. Annabeth rolled her eyes, but slid into the car all the same. She tapped her fingers mindlessly on the seat, and watched as the car drove into the distance, and the school became smaller and smaller until the car rounded a bend and, like a cloth being pulled away from the table, it disappeared.

After a quarter of an hour, the car drew up before Annabeth's house, and Frederick Chase opened the door with an anxious expression on his face.

"Hello. You must be Mr Chase?" Paul asked, he held his hand out of the window, and Frederick shook it..

''Yes, Mr Blofis?" Frederick said with a slight smile. "Thank you for driving Annabeth home."

"It was my pleasure."

"She's grounded for the next two weeks though, so you needn't worry to do so again."

"Why is she grounded?" Paul asked, glancing back at Annabeth with a teasing smile. Frederick waved his hands wildly, as though he was unsure on what to say. "You know... a nighttime escapade. With your son, I presume." Paul and Percy looked both a little sheepish. "Sorry," Paul said, "I'll make sure he doesn't do that again." Percy rolled his eyes, and exchanged an amused glance with Annabeth, who promptly burst out laughing. Frederick jumped, and turned to her curiously.

Once the sound of the engine had dimmed against the roar of Manhattan traffic, and the door to the house had been shut behind them, Frederick turned scowling to his daughter.

"You're grounded Annabeth- remember? You don't let Paul or Percy drive you home. You're going to walk."

"But that's half an hour." Annabeth complained with a sigh.

"Then I'll drive you."

"Okay."

Annabeth darted past her father and into the kitchen, where Helen and her brothers sat around the table, hunched over a piece of paper. They didn't even lift their heads as Annabeth walked - sashayed was a better suited word for it - to the fridge, and pulled out a chocolate bar. She sat down heavily at the table, and scanned the paper her brothers and Helen and were examining. It was a crossword in a magazine. Annabeth shifted in her seat, and Helen now glanced up at her with a frown.

"Why are you eating? We're going out to dinner now."

"We are? Oh right, we are."

Helen sighed, looking at Annabeth skeptically. "Where's Frederick?" She asked, just as such man strode into the room. Frederick Chase was dressed sharply, Annabeth realised now. He wore a suit and a crisp, clean shirt with a blue tie. His shoes were well polished, and his hair had the shine that came with gel.

"Okay kids," He said, his tone light, "Go and get dressed in your best clothes."

"Why so fancy?" Annabeth asked. Frederick shrugged a little.

"I haven't seen my sister or her family in ten years, I don't want to show up in slacks and a t-shirt. It'd be nice if you wore a dress." Annabeth stared at him.

"No, sorry. Wrong number," She gabbled, "I'll wear a nice pair of jeans."

Half an hour later, the Chase family - Frederick, Helen, Bobby, Matthew and Annabeth - convened at the family car, dressed in vaguely formal clothes and almost guarded expressions. Bobby and Matthew wanted the window seats, and Helen was in shotgun, so that left Annabeth in the uncomfortable middle seat, with two very hyper ten year olds on either side. Sighing, she pulled out her phone, and scanned the Seven's group chat, which was filled with ridiculous memes, sappy messages courtesy of Jason, and light-hearted banter thrown back and forth like a ball. Her friend's messages warmed Annabeth a little- even the laborious tasks of explaining to Hazel what Tumblr was, or when Piper texted 'SOS, Drew wants to kill me.'

At one point, Bobby tried to jump up, only to find he was strapped into his seatbelt, and fell on top of his elder sister. Helen reprimanded her husband for breaking the speed limit by one hundred kilometres, and Frederick almost killed them after two minutes of being in the car, by swerving too hard. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, the five of them were clinging on to each other for dear life, white faced and sweating. Annabeth tumbled out of the car all to gladly. And there, waiting by the entrance to the Olive Garden, was Natalie, Henry and Magnus. It was strange, that even after ten years, she still recognised her cousin. She could still recall that day when she had been seven years old, and had told Magnus she would be running away. She recalled his wide-eyes and nodding. She had told Magnus because, at only one year younger, he had been a dear friend. Annabeth gulped, and waved at them.

"No texting, Annabeth. Give me your phone."

Annabeth glanced up from her text to Percy, and at her dad, who had his hand stretched out over the table, ready for her phone. The food had just arrived, and the family was trying - and failing - at making small talks.

"B-but," She started, but her father wiggled his fingers.

"Give me your phone."

Annabeth sighed, and held up a hand, indicating for him to wait a moment as she bid Percy goodbye. Then she clicked off her mobile and placed it in Frederick's hand, who nodded his thanks.

"So... Annabeth," Said Natalie. "Did you have a good summer vacation?" Annabeth stiffened slightly, her knuckles white under the table as she clutched her chair. In the corner of her eye, she saw Helen glance worriedly at her step-daughter.

"No." Annabeth said, picking at an olive, suddenly feeling so, so bitter. "It was, to put it literally, Hell."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Natalie said, and she did sound truly repentant, "Guy trouble?" And it was then that Annabeth was racked by the sudden urge to laugh. To laugh and laugh because now she realised how risible it was. It was almost surreal, that 'Guy trouble,' was apparently still something worthy of a hellish summer. Something that seemed so meagre after the ordeal she had faced. After the sacrifices and the spider-webs and a Greek Trireme in the air and a walk through Tartarus. "No, not that." Annabeth managed to say as she took a bite out of her slice of pizza.

It was Frederick Chase who decided to change tack after a rather heavy, awkward silence. He turned to Magnus with that infuriating smile adults wore when they are about to ask you a personal question. ''So, Magnus?" Magnus looked up at him, all pleasant smiles and good humour. "Do you have a girlfriend?" Frederick asked. Magnus waved his fork in the air casually.

"I guess," He said, "A bit on and off really. A girl called Sonia. She's in her first year at college, studying engineering."  
"Fascinating," Annabeth scoffed, reaching over for another slice of pizza. Then Magnus jutted his chin at her. "What about you? Got a boyfriend?" Annabeth glanced up from a heavenly bite of dough, tomato sauce, cheese and olives with a raised eyebrow. She contended pulling her cousin's leg, and telling him she had a girlfriend instead, but realised she would be quickly dismissed by her father. So she waved her hand, mimicking Magnus's casual demeanour, her pizza jiggling up and down. "Yeah," She said. One of her brothers snorted.  
"Care to elaborate?"  
"No, not really."  
"What's his name?"  
"Percy."  
"That's exotic."  
"Actually his name is Perseus, but no one calls him that."  
"Like the Greek myth, huh?"  
Annabeth nodded, then excused herself to use the bathroom.

Annabeth was drying her hands with the hand dryers when a voice said her name.

"Annabeth?"  
Annabeth jumped so far, she crashed into the tampon dispenser, which hung a good few feet above the hand dryers. It wasn't the most the dignified place to bash one's head, and she turned to face her companion rubbing her head. A familiar woman was laughing softly, her dark hair falling down her back, her belly swollen beneath a floral print dress, blue eyes sparkling.  
"Sally!?" Annabeth exclaimed happy.  
"Annabeth! Nice to see you, what are you doing here?" Annabeth rolled her eyes, and made a yawn. "Family dinner," She said, "Long lost familiar cropping up out of nowhere, forced to have dinner with them, awkward questions, yada yada. What are _you_ doing here? Hey, is Percy here?"  
"Percy's studying at home- sorry. I'm having dinner with Paul."  
"Oh, cool. I'm really bored here."  
Sally laughed, and for a few minutes, until a sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, they exchanged enthusiastic, ebullient conversation.  
"Annabeth- we were beginning to worry," Said a dry voice. Annabeth turned to see Helen leaning against the doorframe of the Ladies bathroom. "If I'd known we were going to have a nice girl talk here," Helen continued, "I would have come." She smiled at them, and Sally laughed, then extended a hand to their new cohort. "You must be Helen," Sally said conversationally.  
"Nice to meet you Sally. I must take Annabeth now though, if you don't mind."  
" _I_ mind." Annabeth muttered.

By the time they had returned to the table, the conversation had changed from being like dogs, sniffing, trying to get a feel of each other, to cats chasing each other incessantly. The talk was filled with rapture, each person drinking in the other and the past and gone ten years. Those long years that had slipped away like smoke and an empty hole. Those years in which each person realised the kindness of the gods for giving them a family to put a wing over one in times of need. Annabeth watched her father and his sister with a feeling of growing warmth. They were clearly still the dogs: politely sniffing to get to know each other. Their conversation was strategically done, so that they seemed to dodge past some topics, and grasp at others, frantically pushing to break that wall of almost impenetrable ice. Annabeth could almost see the pickaxes in their hands as they hacked away and away, and to see their smiles and their effort contented her.

It was when they were about to order pudding, that the subject was first broached. Natalie leaned over the table, and loudly proclaimed: "We should go away together this vacation. For Christmas."

"That's a great Idea," Frederick said, and the adults all nodded in agreements. They began to discuss where. It had to be in the States, they agreed, in a place that would be good for the kids. With beach and perhaps hiking trails. It would be good 'bonding practice.' They were all contending with possibilities, when Annabeth, having just glanced at Sally and Paul, suddenly remembered something.  
"I can't," She broke in. Her father frowned.  
''Why not?" He asked, and Annabeth chafed under the sudden attention of her entire family.  
"I'm - I'm going to Montauk."  
"Since when, young lady?"  
Annabeth creased her brow. "I forgot to tell you. Sally and Paul invited me for five days."  
"And you just _'Forgot to tell us_ '?"  
"Well yeah."  
"It doesn't matter," Magnus interjected, interrupting the threatening argument, "We can go outside that bracket, what day are you going?"

It had all been arranged that the family was to go for a week away, Annabeth would go to Montauk following such holiday, and then, as she and her father had privately discussed, go to camp for a few days following _that_. The Chase family had decided that pudding at the Olive Garden was too expensive, and so decided to buy ice cream at an ice cream parlour, which was a little cheaper. And now, after a short traipse around Times Square, the eight of them were relaxing in hard metal chairs, licking an assortment of sorbets and ice creams. Annabeth and Magnus sat side by side, clamouring to make up on all the conversation they had missed. Magnus bent over backwards asking what Annabeth had been up to these past years, but his cousin was too guarded. In the end, all he managed to glean was that after Annabeth ran away, she somehow wound up back at her fathers after six years of... And the following years had been spent... which had pressed and almost broken Annabeth like pieces of glass. She had nightmares because... And had dozen friends and a boyfriend she had met at... In contrast, Annabeth had received a long and detailed tale of Magnus's every girlfriend (A worrying amount for one so young), every friend, every classmate, every funny anecdote, every school event blah, blah, blah. But even though Magnus's relentless talk was at times, a little boring, it was also just fun to be here, with her cousin, talking like a normal human being.

Finally, once Bobby and Matthew -and Annabeth too- had begun to yawn, the company got up and, still licking ice creams, they wove back through the streets to where they had parked their cars. Henry, Magnus and Natalie would be staying over at their relatives' house, so the cars followed each other like a cat and a mouse, pushing further forwards towards the trap and the cheese, alias the house. The night was growing older, and the stars watched over them like angels, as the vehicles moves swiftly through the throngs of traffic, overlooked by the New York skyline that never failed to take Annabeth's breath away. And then Frederick put on music, and the beat of Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' pulsed through the air like a massive heartbeat. Annabeth smiled, and settled back against the backrest, oblivious to her brothers' squabbling. She let herself drown in the music, in the wash of 70s it brought, because she loved this. She loved the feeling of sailing through the Manhattan streets, and the music around her, and the hum of life the metropolis brought. Because it was times like these, times when Percy's lips touched hers, and she shared a laugh with her friends, and she cruised at night through this beautiful, glorious city, that she truly felt alive. It was these little things in life that made her want to dance in the rain and shout for all the world to hear, and laugh and laugh and laugh. So that she could fully appreciate the enthral of the world. Because if she was Aelin, Percy was Rowan, and she was telling him that he made her want to live, not just survive.


	39. Chapter 39

The following month passed in a blur. In a blur of laughs and kisses in the rain. A blur of a best friend's birthday and plans for another's wedding, and before she knew it, it was the holidays, and Annabeth was leaning patiently against her suitcase, waiting for a cousin, an uncle and an aunt. They were at the train station, amidst a throng of people, and whilst Frederick and Helen were exchanging conversation, Bobby and Matthew were persistent in trying to engage their elder sister in a thumb war. Annabeth was abstaining, trying to juggle between talking to Percy on the phone, reading her book, and shunning out her irritating brothers.

"Hey, guys!" Cried a voice. The party looked up to find their relatives making haste towards them. They wove through the crowds, struggling to pull their large suitcases behind them.

"Hey!" Frederick called to his sister and her companions. Annabeth watched their cohorts come ever nearer, ignoring the commuters who swore with great profanity as they almost tripped over the suitcases on either side. Once they had halted before her and her immediate family, Frederick turned to Annabeth.  
"Go and get the tickets, Annabeth."  
Annabeth gaped. "Why me?"  
"Because you're the oldest."  
"No _you're_ the oldest."  
"You're the oldest child- now ' _veté'-_ go. And get some snacks for the train too." Annabeth sighed, and grasped her suitcase firmly. She tugged it, and, scowling slightly, made her way across the foyer to the ticket office, where an ever growing queue awaited her.

With a resigned sigh, Annabeth joined the tail of the winding line of people. Immediately, she was hit by a wave of various languages. Among the throngs was a little part of each corner of the world. There was English, but also Spanish and French and Mandarin and Greek and Zulu. As the queue inched along carefully, Annabeth took delight in listening intently to each one. They were like music to her ears, wether it was ' _Hola_ ,' or ' _Ándate a la m*erda_ ' it was fascinating. Wether it was a few faintly discernible words in Greek, or a confusing string of letters and sounds Annabeth did not recognise in Zulu, it was beautiful. Like the kindest orchestra in the world, that played the sounds of diversity.

"Miss?" Said a voice. Annabeth looked up and blinked. A woman with a tight knot atop her head and a slightly frigid expression on her face was beckoning her forwards. Annabeth nodded, and moved rapidly towards the ticket booth, cash in her hand.

"Eight tickets please," Annabeth said.  
"Where to - single or return?"  
Annabeth recited the woman the name of the station her father had instructed her to give, and told her return, fingers absently tapping in the handle of the suitcase.  
"Travelling with friends?" The woman asked, as the tickets were being printed out. Annabeth shook her head.  
"With family."  
"Well... Have fun," she said, handing Annabeth the tickets. "And merry Christmas, happy Chanukah."  
"Thank you- Merry Christmas, happy Chanukah."  
Tickets safe in her jacket pocket, Annabeth combated the crowds and headed back to her family, pausing only at a WhistleStop to purchase the food her father had requested.

To most it would have been accommodating that the train was one of the large ones that had a section of eight seats, four on either side, facing each other with a table in the middle, but to Annabeth it was an inconvenience. She didn't want to sit squished against her noisome brother's and incessantly chatty father and step-mother. All she really wanted to do was to curl up by herself and read. Or text. Or to just sit and watch the way the city melted into an endless expanse of rolling green plains and hills that crested high, kissing the sky. It was strange, that though Annabeth was ADHD, she was perfectly capable to sit for hours, intently focused on the passing landscape. She had a good imagination, and her mind painted perfect pictures- beautiful pieces of writing to match each picturesque village they passed or the way the light slanted onto the lush green trees.

But no. Rather than being able to drown in her thoughts, Annabeth was now squeezed between Matthew and Magnus, who were both engaged in a quick conversation on Marvel, and all those deities on Asgard. Though her brothers had tried again and again to get Annabeth into Marvel, Annabeth had resisted, claiming she had enough trouble with Olympus and didn't need to know any more about any other type of god, please and thank you very much. And so now, both boys were talking across her, oblivious to a very annoyed looking sister, in one respect and cousin in other, who was trying to read Wuthering Heights, which wasn't an easy book to read anyway. Annabeth sighed, and put down her book resignedly. She was dyslexic- this wasn't easy peacefully by herself, let alone in this predicament. And so Annabeth contented herself with pulling out her phone and scrolling through her Instagram.

The ringing of Annabeth's phone startled everyone. The mobile sat on the table, having been abandoned in favour of a book some time ago, and now, as it buzzed on the table, the entire company stared at it. Just stared, as though it may be an explosive bomb, about to go off at any minute. The name 'Perce' flashed on the screen- an almost embarrassing blue heart besides it. It was almost surreal, how no one made a move towards it. Whilst the phone buzzed almost surreptitiously, no one on vicinity lifted a finger. After a few rings, Frederick glanced up at his daughter. "Are you going to take that or..?"

Annabeth nodded mutely. She snatched up her cell phone, and struggled past the two people besides her to reach the hallway, whereupon she stumbled to a more private area, besides the doors. The phone had been ringing for some time now, and it was a surprise that Percy had not hung up, as Annabeth finally slid to answer.

"Finally," exclaimed a familiar, jovial voice, "I thought you'd never pick up"

"It was kind of awkward squished against my entire family, I wanted to talk away from them."  
"Figures. But I grant you, if you were talking to your _entire_ family, both sides, it would be a lot more awkward."  
Annabeth laughed, and so did Percy. It was as if a light had been switched on. In her mind, his voice seemed mellifluous. It was even better than the tangle of languages she had heard earlier, more elegant almost. His light New York accent seemed to hold the melody of one thousand violins, the singing voice of an angel. There was a guitar being strummed amongst the words. Or perhaps it was a bass. In all honesty, it was difficult to discern one tune from another. It was all the same. All powerful music she could hear forever.  
"Hello?" Said a voice from the other side, "Are you still there Annabeth?"  
"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I got a little distracted."  
"I'm so offended," Percy said on the other side, but his tone was the least sincere note Annabeth had ever heard. A harp chord struck somewhere. Annabeth mentally cursed herself -since when, since _when_ gods above, had she become such a romantic?  
"Well, Seaweed Brain, how are you? The usual formalities are still in order?"  
"One must always be courteous, no matter the circumstances." Percy answered.  
"Who taught you that? Your mother or Chiron?"  
"Gabe. Smelly Gabe."  
And Annabeth was racked by such a ferocious attack of laughter, she thought she would never breathe again.

They talked and talked until Annabeth lost track of time. Until the clock shifted and changed, it's funny, peculiar tricks that altered the sun and one's course of life. Now, time seemed something infinitesimal. It seemed of no significance, so that Annabeth could succumb quite gladly into its waiting arms. In retrospect, that was a depressing thought. It wasn't till Frederick Chase appeared in the hallway to use to toilet, that Annabeth was finally brought back to earth.

"Are you still here?" Frederick asked. "We figured you'd gone to the cafe."  
Annabeth almost leapt out of her skin, the impact of the fall back to the ground jarring her bones. "What- oh. Hey dad."  
"You've been out here two hours."  
" _What_!?"  
"Yes, well. We all miss you- come back now or you'll miss the chocolate you so kindly bought."  
"In a minute."  
"I'm not so sure your contract - or battery - will last you another minute."  
"Just... let me say goodbye."

Presently, Annabeth was sliding into her seat to curious glances.

"Where were you?" Helen asked. Annabeth waved her hand dismissively.  
"Talking."  
Helen clicked her tongue, but said nothing, as she resumed her conversation with Natalie and Henry. Annabeth sighed, broke off a square if chocolate, and let it melt on her tongue. She rested her head in her hand and stared out of the window, anxiously awaiting the time the train would draw up outside their station, and she would be free from this pungent vessel and the irritating brothers and relentless talk it contained.

It was another half hour before the locomotive finally drew up at a partly dilapidated platform, and the screens displayed the name of the Chase's station. The sky was overcast, and a chill had settled since their departure from New York tree hours ago.

Annabeth grimaced, and wrapped her jacket tighter to her body, bowing her head subserviently to the bloodthirsty gale. According to Frederick, the owner of the house was due to pick them at the car park in ten minutes, and so the family used this opportunity to use the clean restrooms and freshen up after the cramped train journey.

Annabeth, Helen and Natalie stood awkwardly in the bathroom as they washed their hands, exchanging the barest snippets of conversation. Looking between Annabeth and Helen, Natalie's brow was furrowed as though trying to discern what sort of relationship they had.

"... So," Natalie said, "looking forwards to these holidays?"  
Annabeth shook her hands, and a spray of water leaped into the air. "I... Guess."  
"She's just upset because she won't be able to see Percy for five days," Helen muttered bitterly. Then she glanced up at her blushing step-daughter, who's stormy eyes danced with anger, and she held up a hand. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. That was harsh."  
"Well," Annabeth spat out, "If that's how you want to look at it."  
Natalie looked a little alarmed, and put one hand on each woman's arm.  
"That's enough guys. Before this turns into an argument."  
"Oh we'v had plenty of those," Annabeth snarled.  
"Well maybe this will be a chance to start to get along," Natalie offered. Annabeth shrugged. "We were getting a long for a while, but it didn't last. Only like a day."  
"Well maybe you can get along for two."

A middle aged man, with salt and pepper hair and grey eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles was leaning against a red Nissan. He glanced up at the gathered assortment of Chase's and squinted his eyes curiously.

"Are you Frederick Chase?" The man called across the car park. Frederick glanced up and held up a hand. "That's me- Mr Fitzgerald?"  
"That's me too. C'mon over."  
The company hitched their rucksacks and grasped their suitcases. They wove through the grand variety of cars until they reached such Mr Fitzgerald, who shook each adult's hand firmly.  
"Nice to meet you sir, madam" he said, "The house is a ten minute drive from here, and I'll gather you'll be very comfortable."  
"Thank you."  
"And what is the name of your wonderful children?"  
Annabeth's eyebrows shot into her hat. Her father gestured towards where she, her brothers and cousin stood.  
"In turn: Magnus, he's sixteen, Matthew, Bobby, they're both ten, and Annabeth. She's seventeen."  
"Who's who's?" Mr Fitzgerald said cheerily.  
"Magnus is Natalie's and Henry's, Bobby and Matthew mine and Helen's."  
"And the girl?"  
"Annabeth," Annabeth interjected, to her father's irritated frown.  
"She's mine too," Frederick said.  
"But I have a different mother," Annabeth said on impulse.  
"Well it's a pleasure to meet you all." Fitzgerald said.

During the car ride, Annabeth was avidly aware of her dagger digging against her side. She was crammed into the back, compressed against her brothers, her knees uncomfortably knocking against the back of the set before her. Mr Fitzgerald was good at making conversation. He told them about the swimming pool, the best days to go to the centre of town, good hiking trails, the nearest beach. Frederick, who had the good fortune of being in shotgun, took this all in stride. He was chatty and curious, and the incessant ringing of her father's voice almost drove Annabeth to insanity. Well... Perhaps that was slightly exaggerated. She just wanted to pull up at the house they had rented, because she was exceedingly uncomfortable with her brother's shoulder digging into her own, Helen's knees sprawled out (it the only was way possible), and Magnus's elbow digging her in the most uncomfortable place;

The... You know what? She wasn't going to complete that thought.

Eventually, the Nissan pulled up outside a two story, beautiful red-brick house. The family clamoured to get out, and Annabeth was hit immediately by the beautiful, comforting smell of the sea. The briny air kissed her cheeks, the wind whistled a merry tune. Annabeth inhaled deeply, wanting to savour this moment. Wanting to drown in the feeling of serenity, to freeze time, to stop the earth's rotation. She wanted to laugh. To dance. To sing. She wanted to pause the clock, and let this moment last forever.  
But already, Helen was harrowing her along, herding her towards the house. And Annabeth was caught amongst the tangle of bags and bodies, and that little tranquil sensation she had sensed melted away, giving way to a slightly displeased one.

Mr Fitzgerald had shown them the house, given them a map and now he was placing the key in Frederick's palm. Sitting in the living room, Annabeth had the perfect vantage point into the kitchen, where her brothers were already raiding the fridge, the bathroom, where thankfully nobody was occupying, and the former ensemble which was unfolding. Mr Fitzgerald shook Frederick's hand, and exited the house, the door swinging shut behind him and closing with a resounding bang. There was a faintly discernible "Sorry!"

Having nothing to do save sit on the sofa, Annabeth decided to unpack. She yawned, and heaved herself to her feet, the carpet caressing her bare feet. Then she ascended the stairs to the room she was sharing with her brothers and Magnus. It wasn't the most accommodating arrangement, being a girl, the only girl, among three boys. Annabeth was already dreading getting changed under the covers or in the tiny closet-sized bathroom the house played host to. Upon opening the door, Annabeth found Magnus already there, storing his clothes in one of the chest of drawers the four of them would share. He raised a hand in greeting. Nodding in acknowledgment, Annabeth retrieved her case from besides the mattress she would be sleeping on, and unzipped it. She hadn't brought much clothes, only just enough for five days and whatever unfortunate weather would befall them. And because of this, it was no feat to stow away her belongings, even if she did, out of pure embarrassment, attempt to hide her underwear from Magnus's line of sight. She wasn't comfortable putting her brassieres among her brothers and Magnus's smelly boxer shorts. Was anyone?

Later that night, after a game of poker, of which she was surprisingly allowed to partake in, and a film, Annabeth was making her way back from the toilet when she heard giggling. The familiar sound of her laughing brothers, and a deeper sound. It came from her room, which for a moment angered Annabeth, until she remembered she was sharing with three others. Intrigued, Annabeth leant against the wall inconspicuously. Or she hoped it was inconspicuous. Part of her was confused. Why was she doing this? It was just laughter. But... Something about that relentless chortling...

There was the sound of Matthew reading something out, and Annabeth frowned. Through that hazy stream of tangled words, there seemed something familiar about them.  
"Annabeth." Someone said inside the walls, but they weren't addressing her, they were... A strange feeling of dread settled in her stomach, and Annabeth pushed open the door. Immediately, all three glanced up, Matthew clutching a phone on his hand, Bobby peering over his brother's shoulder, and Magnus half looking at whatever Matthew was looking at, half at a magazine in his hands.  
"What are you laughing at?" She demanded. Matthew looked up at her and snorted, the phone travelling with him and the path of his hand. And then Annabeth realised. She flushed read with anger.  
"Y-you hacked my phone!?"  
Matthew waved his hand nonchalantly. "It was easy. 1207."  
"Oh just announce it to the world would you." Annabeth seethed.  
Matthew said nothing, only continued to scroll through whatever he was looking at. Let him. Nothing on her phone would interest her little brother, Annabeth was more angry that he had taken her phone and hacked the passcode. Or she thought nothing would interest him.  
"Aw- look at all these hearts and oh- that's kind of suggestive, don't you think? Just a little." He showed Magnus the phone, who promptly burst out laughing.  
Annabeth's hands, which had previously been clenched and slightly raised, dropped. She loosed a little, " _Oh_." Her face reddened but not with anger this time, with ignominy.  
"You're looking at my texts to Percy."  
"Mm," Matthew said, then he burst out laughing harder than ever. "Oh this is priceless, I'm gonna show this to mom and dad." He said, and darted out of the door, followed by the other boys, Magnus slightly slower, laughing quietly. For a moment, until she gathered her senses which had spilled out onto the floor before her, Annabeth just stood rooted to the spot.  
"Oh you little..." She may or may not have called her younger brother a stream of very vulgar curses, before taking after him like a rocket.

Frederick Chase glanced up just as his eldest skidded into the room, her face alight with anger.

"Dad!" Yelled Matthew, ignoring the startled look of the other adults.  
"Yes?"  
"You've got to read this,"  
"What is it?"  
"Annabeth's messages to Percy." He tossed the phone onto his father's lap still laughing. But Frederick didn't look at them. He gently clicked the phone off and set it before him on the coffee table.  
"As much as we'd all love a good laugh," he said. Annabeth's blush flared. "You are invading your sister's privacy, and I cannot condone you to look at this again. You wouldn't like it if she scrolled through you and your girlfriend's conversation."  
"I don't have one though."  
"Oh it's only a matter of time," Annabeth said from the back of the room, "And I'll be waiting."  
"That's enough Annabeth," Frederick said, handing his daughter her phone, "And change the passcode."  
"I was just about to." Annabeth growled. She glared daggers at her brother, and marched into the kitchen for some food. She'd skipped lunch.


	40. Chapter 40

Frederick had gone to the bodega earlier that evening, and whilst Bobby and Matthew were aloud only a sip each, both Magnus and Annabeth were allowed an entire glass. Annabeth now sat at the table, tentatively rubbing the rim of the glass against her lip. The sharp, almost fruity stench of alcohol filled her nostrils, and she tried not recoil. Besides her, Magnus took a sip. He put the wine glass down with a firm hand gagging slightly, and pushed it away.  
"Go, on. It won't bite." Frederick told his daughter with a grin.  
Annabeth glanced askance at her cousin, who was frantically rinsing his mouth with water, much to the amusement of Bobby and Matthew.  
"A bit nervous," she admitted. Her father frowned.  
"Have you never tried alcohol before?" He asked. Annabeth shrugged. "Fleeting sips." She said, and tipped her head slightly backwards, to receive the wine which presently flooded her mouth.  
"Oh, gods." She choked out, gagging, desperately trying not to let the liquor spew out onto the table. Coughing, Annabeth set the glass down on the table with a slight _bang_. Frederick raised an inquiring eyebrow.  
"It's an acquired taste," she muttered. Her family laughed.

Hours later, the four children sat in their bedroom, Bobby and Matthew dominating the bunk beds, Annabeth and Magnus perfectly comfortable on two mattresses on the floor. Annabeth was cross legged, phone in her hand and book splayed out on the quilts before her. And in - beyond - the screen, so far yet so tantalisingly close, beyond the blinking letters and the feeble emojis, in a vibrant city of life and music, was a boy with messy black hair and all the seven seas in his deep green eyes. He could be anywhere and everywhere. Annabeth pressed her finger to the screen as Percy's reply popped up. A reply of a thousand happy memories, that held the hand of pain and agony. But a reply still, of beauty. Of a candid, trouble-maker's smile and sassy replies. Arms corded with muscles and a face corded with life. Annabeth smiled.

Annabeth was shaken from her stupor by Magnus, who poked her in the arm with long fingernails. He frowned at her. "Are you okay?" He asked  
"I'm fine."  
"You seemed distant."  
"Mmm," Annabeth picked her phone back up, and pointedly began to text Percy again, who's answer to Annabeth's complaining about being the only girl was simply: 'That must be annoying.'  
'Well if by annoying you mean awkwardly changing under irritably versatile covers, then yes. It is annoying. To change the tack, are you at home?' She replied  
'Yes- it's nicer than boarding at school.'  
'Boarding school is never nice.'  
Then Percy had explained that Sally wished Annabeth well, and told her his mother was was also reprimanding him for going on his phone rather than studying.  
'I've gtg.' He texted, 'Mom's about to take my phone away- G'night, ly.'  
''Night. Ly.'  
Left with nothing to occupy her wandering mind, save her somewhat depressing book, Annabeth clicked her phone off and slid down into the covers, listening to the beautiful noises of the night. And that meant the dichotomy between the far away crashing of the waves as they kissed the shore, and the sound of Helen herding her children to sleep, and rhythmic churning of the toilet being flushed.

Sometime later, during the minutes that bled into each other like paint on a canvas, the overhead lights switched off. Sometime later, during the hours that rolled into each other like soft dough, three young bodies fell into a deep slumber. And sometime later, as the clock ticked and ticked and ticked, as the night grew old, and began to covet its youth again, as all around, the land of rolling hills and scintillating sea became robed in embroidered shadows, a young woman, a woman who for all her burdens was no more than a little girl, lay awake, slashing without a pause, at the uninvited demons in her mind.

It was around three thirty when Annabeth finally succumbed to the icy, merciless talons of sleep. It pulled her under in a vice-like grip, and though Annabeth tried futilely to resist, it pulled her under its surface as if the girl were drowning.

Glass. It was shards of glass that pricked her dreams this time.

Darkness. It was slivers of darkness that pierced her dreams the next time.

Claws. It was razor-sharp claws that tore through her dreams the time after that.

Percy. It was a laughing Percy for whom she called throughout the turmoil that was that night.  
It was a maelstrom.  
And she didn't call for her father.  
She didn't call for her friends.  
She didn't call for Chiron, her ever-present mentor.  
She never would.  
She called for Percy. Her best friend. Her lover. Her companion. The boy who had had her back- quite literally- since that first day he had bounded down the hill and collapsed on the porch of the Big House. And when so many had, he had never left.

 _Annabeth was falling. Falling as a dozen spiders crawled all over her body. There were bites and cobwebs and spindly legs. There was a scream. A scream she later discerned as her own. There was blood dripping from her finger tips. There was smoke and ash and flames that licked her flesh. Hard ground beneath her. Running. Running. Was she falling again? Now she was flying? Then she leapt and jumped and crawled and whimpered. A leering face of a giant. A swirling storm of darkness beneath a god's visor. Terror. Fear. Love. Oxymorons. Red sky. Shepard's delight. Good omens. A magpie. One for sorrow. A bad omen. Blood. So much blood. Spinning. Dancing. Laughing. Delirium delirium. Delirium. Spinning. Dancing. Laughing. Delirium delirium. Delirium. And the ragged breathing. And the screaming muscles. What was happening? Nonsensical words in her mind. Spiders. Spiders everywhere. Psychedelic colours. Don't scream don't scream. Run run run - sobbing. No don't. You're strong - run run. Crawl. Kneel. Jumping. Running. Run to the ghost land. Run. Run. Ru_ -

With a wretched cry, Annabeth shot awake. She panted, and glanced about herself. Something should have woken her up- a force she should have been grateful for - but what? All around her, her brothers and cousin snored peacefully, their slumber's blissfully unperturbed by the pursuing nightmares. The ephialtes that, like the giant himself, invoked ire and fear and adrenaline and a desperate, desperate plea for help. An owl hooted. _Oh_. That must have been it. It was rather fitting, wasn't it? Almost like a blessing from her mother. Annabeth closed her eyes, and leant, still breathing heavily, back onto her pillow, in the intention of falling back to her disturbed sleep. But no sooner had darkness enveloped her, Annabeth stifled a gasp and opened her eyes again. Her nightmares crashed around her like falling boulders, knocking the very breath from her lungs. Bile rose in Annabetb's throat, scalding, tearing, worrying at her jugular like a red-hot knife. She swore quietly, and leaped up, sprinting down the stairs to the bathroom. It was as if she were moving through custard. Trying to leash her fear, her dreams threatening to asphyxiated her, the bile burning and burning and burning. Annabeth felt nausea, a spinning head that made it look as if the world were dancing. Her heart was racing, she only wanted... She didn't know what she wanted. Her mind was a blur, Annabeth could not the concentrate on anything as she moved. There was Helen and Frederick asleep on the couch. She caught her footsteps just in time, stilling them in a way that made her wish she could just as easily freeze time, freeze it in those precious seconds with her friends back in New York. In the park. Someone stirred, and , now conscious of the sobs she'd previously contained so well, now echoing through her body, and the unbidden tears that stained her face, Annabeth ducked into the bathroom. She barely made it. The faces of the god and the blood and the spiders haunted her vision, and Annabeth felt her stomach rise again. She leant forwards, and all restraint she had previously had melted away, into the cloak of shadows.

Once Annabeth was done with emptying out her stomach into the toilet basin, she sank back against the wall shaking. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and not at all proud to admit it, stuffing wads of toilet paper on her mouth to stifle the heart-broken whimpers she uttered. It would be so easy- too easy- to contact Percy. And she wanted to desperately. But she was prideful. She didn't want to rope Percy in on this, it wasn't fair. Also, Annabeth was strong, and if she could survive Tartarus and wars and labyrinths and the weight of the sky, she could survive this night, no matter how daunting the prospect. So here she was, reduced to an empty shell, leaning against the wall with tears and shaking and stifled sobs. The room seemed to close in around her, trapping the girl in a little airtight box. It was a bubble. A haven. A sanctuary. Or she wished it was. Oh she wished it was any of those things. But it wasn't. A ghost's hand seemed to slide into her's. A wraith in her peripheral vision. But when Amnabeth looked to the side, it was gone. So she put her head in her hands and hunched over, and shook in her body of scars and mind of wounds she did not want.

"Annabeth?"  
Annabeth was still on the floor, and the voice, though familiar, was one that in this haziness of her mind, she could not place. Bleary eyed, with tears and a sticky face, she glanced up at her cohort.  
" _Oh, Annabeth_. Oh God." A voice freighted with concern. A figure came over and crouched besides her. An arm snaked around her shoulders. Annabeth was still crying, too tired to even attempt to not.  
"I'm here." Whispered a voice in her ear. A hand - a real one this time - grasped her own.

"Helen?" Annabeth whispered into the darkness, and the hoarseness of her own voice brought her down to earth. It was like coarse fabric. Like sand paper. Her tongue like lead.  
"It's alright."  
"It's not," Annabeth sniffed, avidly aware of how angsty she sounded. "It's anything but alright. It's not fair."  
"I know," Helen whispered back, hugging her stepdaughter.  
"But why?" Annabeth sobbed, "It used to be that I would fight the monster and it would be over in a matter of minutes. Now the monster is always present, and no celestial bronze can defeat it. And it's not fair. It's a demon every night, and it's inevitable, and I _don't want to live like this_!" It felt futile to Annabeth. Because nothing would change it. These constant, overwhelming nightmares. Anxiety. Panic attacks. Wether she compared them to a monster, there was no weapons with which to slay them. Wether she compared them to an illness, there was no medication to dull the pain. Well some might argue there was. The romantics would. They'd say one was in the Big Apple, where life never died. That there was a beating heart among the music in the winding streets of Manhattan. But that made it sound like Romeo and Juliet. Who died after three days. Helen squeezed Annabeth's hand, and tugged it upwards.

"It's not right," Helen hissed into the shadows, "It's cruel and awful. And _fuck it_ Annabeth, I know. It's daunting and terrifying and I hate it. But we get out of these things. The years will fade away eventually. You will push through, give it a year, and you go to college. Perhaps it'll get better then, when you can even rent your own apartment if you want, or just live with other students. In New Rome. Perhaps it will take longer, but people always make it. And you are half god - if anyone can make it. You can."  
Annabeth wiped her eyes, and looked up to her step-mother. The light from the open door flooded into the room, and Helen's worried features were stark in the glare. Annabeth squeezed her hand and sniffed.  
"I'll just have to hope."  
"Well we can start now? How about cocoa?"  
Annabeth tried a frail, slightly broken smile. In sync with the corner of her lips, her spirits lifted ever so slightly, and she realised how much she had coveted a maternal figure. An elder woman - a mother - to guide her. Not a distant goddess up in the heavens. Someone to carefully do her hair before school. Someone to tickle her and advise her on the big things like exams, and the small, funny little things like boys. Someone to love her, not in any way like Eros or Philia even. But like a mother. Someone to aid her through the awkward years of puberty. To hold her hand determinedly, and even perhaps shed a tear on her first day of school. Annabeth nodded wanly, haggardly. And slightly happily. "Okay."


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: chapter forty one already!? Woah, I didn't think I'd get past ten. So I want to do a disclaimer here: I don't own PJO. If I did, that would be piracy. Argh, shiver me timbers, me hearties. Mm, sorry, That word has always connoted pirates. Anyway, just letting it all know that Percy will still be in this, don't worry- they're gonna go to Montauk and school and Grover's wedding and little day-to-day life, so don't worry... I don't think I will make this any longer than sixty chapters because I've been completely invested in this story and want to write something with a little more substance-thank you to all who vote and comment and have had the stamina to read this far.

"Rise and shine kids! We're going swimming in the sea!" Shouted a voice, resembling that of Frederick's. There was the furious clicking of overhead lights, and all four children groaned simultaneously. Annabeth's eyelids fluttered open. Somehow, after a very trying and embarrassing night, she had wound up back in bed, and for the last hour, furiously tried to sleep. To no avail. Bobby and Matthew, still young and innocent and enthusiastic, leapt off their bunks laughing, leaving a grumbling Magnus and Annabeth behind.

"C'mon you lousy teenagers!" With a slight laugh, Frederick pulled the quilts off both children, and the pair curled up into themselves like cats. Annabeth shivered. It had been a hot night, and whilst Annabeth had a little more dignity, and slept in, if rather small, shorts, and a tank top, Magnus slept in nothing more than a pair of boxers.

"Five minutes," Magnus groaned, his voice slurred, sluggish with sleep. Frederick clicked the lights with more persistence, and moved over to their drawer. He began to rummage around in it,no doubt searching futilely for bathing suits, and Annabeth - awkward and embarrassed as a teenage girl a did not even have the heart to to tell him she would rather he didn't go searching through her underwear. She turned on her front and nuzzled her face into the pillows, drawing from it, its delicious warmth.

There was footsteps resounding on the stairs, and Helen appeared in the empty doorframe. In her arms, she carried a bundle of swim suits.

''Come on," She chided Annabeth and Magnus. "Swim before breakfast."

"But it's the holidays," Annabeth complained, now burying her head beneath her pillow.

"So?"

"So I want to eat first," Annabeth replied, her voice muffled beneath the cushion. She wanted to say that she wanted to sleep first, but such words were tricky. Like tripwire was around her, and soon she'd fall prostrate to the floor. Especially after last night.

"Well it's Christmas the day after tomorrow, so we're going to do some shopping later today, there wont be any time to swim other than now."

"No," Annabeth moaned, elongating the vowels. Helen simply sighed, and threw something which landed squarely in the centre of her stepdaughter's back.

"There's your bathing suit," She said, though lacking the usual contempt, which took Annabeth by surprise, surprise a hand which grabbed her and squeezed _her_ heart without warning. "Come down in five." There was the sound of retreating footfalls and the steady, comforting sound of clicking, as a pair of heels descended the stairs and down below to a cosy living room and a happy family. The happiest family Annabeth would ever get.

Annabeth had forced Magnus to change in the bathroom, and now she wriggled into a two-piece swimming costume. It was an unembellished black ensemble, and nothing out of this world, but Annabeth liked it. She took pleasure in the mundane, simplicity of its design, because it was something that - when nothing else in this world was - was uncomplicated. Which was ridiculous, because it was only an item of clothing. Annabeth dug in her drawer for a pair of cotton shorts and pulled them on. She slapped on a pair of Havaiana flip flops and grabbed her towel, before running downstairs, narrowly running over a little brother, who promptly screamed and ducked aside.

They were at the beach half an hour later. Annabeth felt the pull of the sea almost immediately, like little threads of energy that connected her to the singing waves. To the surf that kissed the shore and slithered away. To the glistening horizon in the distance; the land of the ghosts. To the briny air that tingled her skin and left her feeling so alive. Annabeth inhaled deeply, and breathed out again, leaving her mark, a small blade of her breath to cut into the glorious, powerful salty air. She was ahead of her family, now she realised. At the top of the dune, staring out across the vast expanse of water, to where the sea and sky embraced with a sort of burning passion. The scene was probably quite romantic, from down below where her family slogged up the sandy slopes like turtles; The sky still slightly tinged with the beautiful, pastel pinks and oranges of dawn, and the streaks, the little knife edges of colour, smiled down at the sea, and danced on its relentless waves. There was the gentle, comforting roar of the waves as they crashed to the shore, their surf white, like crowns atop their heads. A flicker of a smile played across Annabeth's lips. She was drawn to the sea, no doubt. Perhaps not in the same way as Percy, who was almost shackled to it, not in a bad way, but so that coming to the beach was always a return home. But still, she was here hanging onto it by a string of yarn.

"Wait up, Annabeth!" Called a voice. Annabeth glanced down to where Helen was struggling up the sandy incline, a little ahead of the rest of the party. She offered a small smile, and reach out a hand to her stepmother, who took it, and hauled herself up the final chunk of the dune, until both women stood side by side, looking out onto the endless expanse of ocean.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Helen asked. Annabeth turned to face her stepmother, and the wind battered her cheeks. Tousled her hair. Whispered songs in her ear.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. The disinterested trees that littered the grassy banks behind the beach seemed to still, and lean in to hear better. Annabeth opened her mouth to add something onto the tail of her words, but found no letters, no sounds churning in the depths of her throat. She closed her mouth defeated, and instead showed emotion in the twinkling of her eyes. After a moment of silence, where all either could do was to stand and stare in wonder, Helen spoke. "Do you feel better?"

Annabeth blinked, coming slowly out of a freighted reverie. "Yes. Thank you for... Helping me." It was a struggle to say it, the words did not roll off Annabeth's tongue, but there was a stab, nay caress of tenderness and relief, for speaking such things.

"Natalie's right, you know," Helen said, "We need to put aside our differences. And I do care for you, you know. I care a lot. And now that you're a young woman, I think we need to make up. You'll enter the world as an adult, and we'll do it on good terms."

Annabeth let a sliver of a laugh come from her lips. "That was heart-rendering, and if I may say so, a little cheesy. But thank you, I'll try to be nicer."

"If that's possible." Helen laughed.

"Hey! Of course it's possible. Ask anyone."

"Wait for us, Annabeth, Helen!" Shouted Frederick's voice, but it was distorted in the echo and blood pumping in Annabeth's ears. The sea. The wind. And a figure who, given a chance, might just prove to be a kind of mother.

Once the rest of the Chases had trekked their way up to the summit of the dune, the descent began. Which was significantly harder. Annabeth hefted the parasol on her shoulder and fought the urge to leap off the slope into he sandy depths below. It was a childish temptation, she thought, as she watched her brothers, unhindered by any beach equipment, skid down the incline. Annabeth dug her feet into the sand to keep her balance, and continued her way down, ahead of her company. She reached the base of dune, and turned onto the sandy banks of the beach. It was enthralling. Beautiful. Imposing. The strand was porcelain white, and stretched out to kiss the rolling hills in the distance, where it turned up into a terrace. Looking to the sea, past the array of sand castles and squealing children, an archipelago showed its colours along the horizon, basking in the early morning sun, floating on the sea. Such a sea elegant in all its glory. All were subservient to its power. And it was no surprise that, looking at this wonder, Poseidon was part of the Big Three.

Annabeth meandered through the patches of people, dotted here and there. She was searching for a place to allocate herself and her family, but her heart wasn't completely in such task. She was thinking of Percy- which wasn't much of a surprise. Percy and the entry exams for college. Vaguely, Annabeth was aware of the huge heap of studying she should be working on, but had barely touched. She'd pulled the wool over her eyes, and seemed to think that if she ignored the problem long enough, it would eventually fade into nothing. And then her thoughts would turn to Percy, and a glimmer would return to her stormy eyes. He would love to be here, by the sea- that beautiful sea that took one's breath away. And with her too, she hoped. But he was in New York now though, studying. And then her thoughts would take a dark turn down that morose path again, and Annabeth would sink back into submission.

"Here's fine, Annabeth!" Natalie yelled.

"Huh?" Annabeth pivoted, and retreated to where her family had began to set down towels and beach bags. "Oh, cool." She laid down the parasol, and threw her shorts into a discarded bag to keep the sand out of them. Annabeth made to run into the sea, when Helen got up behind her.

"I'm coming, don't leave without me."

"I wouldn't dare." A conspirator's smile, and Annabeth took off, sending a flurry of sand behind her and Helen laughing somewhere behind.

The water was not warm, but not entirely frigid either. It was bracing. So that each wave that reached up to kiss Annabeth's stomach sent a pleasant shiver up her body.

"It's cold," Helen muttered, grimacing, though wading deeper in all the same. Annabeth followed suite, until the water lapped at her breast, into the core of her chest. She rubbed a dripping hand of water on the back of her neck, and wrapped her arms around her body. As Annabeth watched, Helen grinned, and leant back until the water rushed over her like a blanket. A pale head of black hair and stygian black eyes disappeared. It stayed below for a while, for immeasurable seconds, and when it did finally surface, it surfaced happy and wild, a beautiful youthfulness restored once more. Smooth hands flicked water playfully into Annabeth's face.

"Come on!" Rosebud lips said, "Get in before your brothers do."

"Just..." Annabeth began, "In my own time." She took a deep breath, and sank. Sank into the icy, penetrating, imposing, and so beautiful icy depths. The world seemed to quell, and then stop altogether. All that was alive was Annabeth's open, stinging eyelids. The fish that swam past. The streaks of light that pierced the water's scintillating surface. The brine was brutal on Annabeth's eyes, but that was no more than a minor inconvenience here in this serene, tranquil spot, when it seemed she was safe and always would be. The torn fabric of this world was stitched together, and a beautiful tapestry was made. Too soon, much sooner than she would have liked, Annabeth felt the need for air build up inside her chest. She came up with a gasp, rubbing her eyes, the sunlight caressing her cheeks. Tinkling laughter behind her. A piglet's squeal. Annabeth turned, a smile dancing on her countenance, and looked towards the shore. Matthew was there, whining about the penetrating cold of the water. Frederick held his hand, clearly suppressing a smile.

"Come on," he said gently, voice carrying in the wind, "It's nice once you're in- look at Annabeth and mommy."

"Whoever gets in last is a rotten tomato," Bobby chanted loudly, racing past his brother, Magnus not far in front. Matthew's face turned hard with resolution; with that tantalising, coveting need to claim that infinitesimal triumph over his brother. He plunged into the next wave that came, and swam desperately past Bobby, who was left standing helplessly in the shallows.

"Ha, Ha! You're a rotten tomato!" Matthew yelled once he had paused his swim. His voice was coloured with ebullience, he pumped his fists in the air. Annabeth smiled, a smile that widened until it kissed the sky. These childish pursuits, the games she longed for, the ones so enchanting to watch. Especially as one matured. As one's age slipped through their own fingers like smoke, and they found themselves teetering on the edge between adolescence and adulthood, that these ordinary practices were kind to one's eyes. Like seeing a mirror, a shard of one's reflection. A vision of the past. Annabeth frowned, as she was dragged out of her thoughts by an oncoming wave. These thoughts were laughable, she would think of something different like... She was glad to be seventeen. Because it was the age where everything happened. Where one was stepping over the threshold into a new life. But one was still young and energised. It was a dizzying age, where there was tests and exams and pressure, but also it was a fitting age to kiss, to indulge in the reckless decisions adolescents made, and to hold the warm hands of a lover. The age paragon for dancing. Parties. Laughing. It was living before life had really started and-

Annabeth frowned again. Shut up. She told her brain. No, it replied.


	42. Chapter 42

Annabeth was hiding. She had bought a present for each person in her company, and decided she wasn't willing to be faced with the daunting prospect of another seven presents for all her friends anytime soon. She could resume her shop later, but for now, she was in a quaint little cafe, sipping egg nog and staying out of the way of her family's prying eyes. At her feet lay several bags, and in her pocket sat a significantly lighter purse. No longer was the merry clacking of coins with every step she took, but Annabeth found that this did not trouble greatly. Not with the Christmas sensation she was relenting to. With 'Oh, Ms Believer' in her ears, and the liquid in her mouth and the scarf around her neck. The weather had changed from the vibrant, calming sun of the morning to... Snow. A dichotomy between summer and winter. Through the shop window, Annabeth saw the familiar shadows of Helen and her brothers. She tugged the scarf so that it covered her face, and let a curtain of blonde hair drape over one shoulder as she lent down to take another sip of her drink.

"Chilly out there, isn't it miss?" Said a voice. Annabeth jumped slightly, and craned her neck to where a smiling old man sat at the table besides her own, a lager before him. She smiled, and took an earphone from her ear.

"Yes, I suppose so," Annabeth replied politely.

"And are you doing Christmas shopping, now there?"

"Yes, it's exhausting, I grant you. But I guess it's one's duty," Annabeth's tone was light and conversational; joking.

"You're a good girl."

"Thank you, sir."

Annabth smiled to herself. It was quite endearing, the old man's smile and kindly composure. The almost quintessential talk of the elderly he spewed. A warm feeling bubbled in her stomach when Annabeth turned back to her drink. She rested her head on her hand and turned to stare out of the window and at the people who scurried about like ants, their collars up, heads bowed against the battering winds.

Annabeth found her her thoughts suddenly wandering. She thought of her home. Camp Half-Blood. And Percy. Gods, was it bad that she missed him so after such little time? She recalled when he had kissed her goodbye on that last day of school. His eyes holding such emotion. Lips tender and passionate. Hands that held her with such comfort she may never cry again. They had been by the bike sheds, most of the students had filtered out, leaving them alone, and an exuberance tinged with a little sorrow was laid bare in both's stance.

'I'm going to miss you,' He had whispered against her lips.

'Me to.' Annabeth had murmured back. Cool lips on hers. Calloused hands on her back. On her shoulders. Feeling through the waves of her hair. Mouth opened a fraction. He had sung something into that kiss too.

'Please, hold my hand. We're in foreign lands.' (A/N; that's 'Oh Ms. Believer- by Twenty One Pilots.') And she had sung something back, something lost in the blur of her imploding mind. And they had stood there. Inhaling the other's heart and soul and passion. He had held her that day with a such force that was both gentle and violent. Like love. They had cleared the gap between them, pressing together as if they were shackled. A kiss. Another. Another. One on each corner of her lips. She requited it on tiptoes. And then they broke apart, and at almost a head shorter, Annabeth had buried her head in his shoulder. He had almost lifted her into the sky. In two senses. They had stayed until Chiron found them, and they had sprang apart innocently. And Chiron had seen nothing of the kisses on the lips- and perhaps those on the jaw line too. He had not seen the sheer amount of space between them they had cleared- perhaps because there hadn't been a space to see. He hadn't seen the cupping of heads and tangled hair and hearts smattered with the other's. Not their lips ever so slightly redder. Only their faces he had seen. The ones coloured a little scarlet.

But still, Chiron had not seen.

And Annabeh felt dizzy at the memory. She stare vacantly out of the window. A figure was crossing the road towards her. Vaguely familiar? Maybe. Mm. That face... The door opening. Anger but also amusement dancing on the person's countenance. Oh.

"Hey, Helen." Annabeth said.

Helen's lips twinged in amusement.

"Made yourself comfy?"

"Very."

Helen laughed, and surveyed the bags at her step-daughter's feet. "You still have more to buy, don't you?"

"Only five more gifts," Annabeth said. She held up her hand and put down a finger in turn as she recited, "Perce, Piper, Hazel, Jason and Frank. Oh, and Grover and Rachel too. And Reyna. And Chiron I guess. And the Coach. And that means what? Clarisse too? Ugh, I don't even really like her." Annabeth sank back against her chair with a defeated sigh.

"Do you have enough money?" Helen asked worriedly.

"Of course not!" Annabeth scoffed. "But it's Christmas, so I'm not going to let it get to my head." As if to prove a point, Annabeth took another drain of egg nog.

"Well, we're all heading back to the house now, so if you want I can stay with you whilst you finish off that list."

"It's fine, don't worry. But ten bucks would be nice- I'll pay you back."

Helen fumbled in her wallet, and withdrew the required sum.

"You know the way back?"

"More or less, I'll be fine."

"See you there then."

Annabeth stayed in the cafe for a few minutes after Helen had left. Once she had finished her egg nog, she gathered up her bags and stumbled to her feet.

"Merry Christmas. Happy Chanukah," she bid the friendly old man besides her as she passed. He looked up from his beverage and smiled, a hand raised in farewell.

"Merry Christmas. Happy Chanukah- stay safe miss."

"I will."

Annabeth gave the man a small wave, and ducked out of the shop, wind chimes on the door tinkling in her wake. She was greeted by a blast of cold air and snow that kissed her hooded face. Annabeth tugged the parka closer around her body, and bowed her head as she darted down the cobbled street to the awaiting stores that leered and laughed at all and sundry, filled with flustered staff intent on only bleeding one dry of all their riches.

Annabeth made her ways through the trees of the pine forest. The house was not long away, but laden with so many bags, Annabeth had difficulty traipsing through the snowy bridle way. Dusk was fast approaching, and every now and then an owl would hoot, it's sinister cry resounding through awning of trees. The fading light was serenely dappled, it cascaded onto the forest floor, casting puddles of simmering light that shattered like glass with every step Annabeth took, and the air was freighted with the magical smell of pine, overwhelming and powerful, seeking a home in every nook and cranny. Snow seemed to close in around Annabeth, it fluttered softly down from the heavens, gentle as a butterfly. As Annabeth walked, she tried to absorb the tranquility of this moment, but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone - something - was watching her. Which, as a demigod was perfectly plausible. Annabeth ducked, and pulled her new dagger from her boot. She didn't hold it aloft, but held it limp in her hand, not yet fighting, but still prepared. Ambling along, stars began to prick the sky, shadows robed the land. Up ahead, Annabeth heard the steady gurgle of a stream, which was good, with such thing, she could drown out the roar of blood in her ears. Pretend it wasn't there. Something touched her shoulder. Annabeth whirled, and squinted into the darkness. Nothing. Oh gods. But...

"Argh!" Something small crawled over her head. Annabeth batted wildly, and something fell into her palm. Eight spindly legs. Eight horrific eyes. Annabeth bit back on a shriek, and flung the arachnid into the depths of the night. Anything but spiders. She shook herself and continued her walk.

A whisper.

The bushes? Yes, just the bushes. Annabeth quickened her pace still.

A snap of a twig.

A woodland animal? Yes, just a critter.

Annabeth hefted her blade still.

A roar.

And that was not the wind. Annabeth froze. She lowered her bags and steeped defiantly into a shaft of light.

"Come and get me," she called tauntingly into the night. Her voice, though confident, had an obvious undertone of fear. And gods yes, she was scared. And angry. A strange emotion pummelled through she veins as Annabeth called again, slightly sing song, hardly more than a breath, "Come and get me."

'Get me.'

'Get me'

Her voice echoed through the trees. The world seemed to hold its breath, and even Annabeth's pounding heartbeat quelled.

"I'm coming."

'Coming.'

'Coming.'

A voice hissed back, and Annabeth's blood froze over. The voice was venomous and as piercing and sharp as her own blade. There was a crunching of snow that came nearer and nearer. And in from the shadows something appeared, stepping into the shaft of light and so close to Annabeth she could the feel the energy pulsing from it.

Stay safe, the old man had said. Well...

Annabeth held the dagger up, the Bronze glinted in the starlight. "Come and play."

Not a foot away she stood. Torso almost naked, but clothed in black so dark it might have been night itself, and a long serpentine body serving as legs that wound down from her body and coiled up on the snowy ground at their feet. This monster could only be one thing...

"I remember you," the Echidna purred. "Annabeth Chase,"

Annabeth smiled wickedly. "I see the usual courtesies are still in favour- Echidna." She hefted her blade to the Echidna's heart. "But didn't my boyfriend kill you already?"

"We come back," the Echidna hissed.

"But your dear Chimera did not," Annabeth countered, "Pity."

The Echidna made closer to Annabeth, her snake-like body raking the ground. "I'm going to kill you, tear you apart limb from limb."

"Well I haven't heard that one before."

With a gnash of her teeth, the Echidna came forwards. Annabeth grunted, quick as a flash, she held the dagger against her oppressors neck.

"One move," Annabeth ground out, a warning.

There was a sound parallel to a whip, and Annabeth found herself suddenly on the ground, the snow biting at her exposed flesh. The breath was knocked from her lungs, and overhead, the Echidna peered at her, a baleful smile plastered on her countenance. In her peripheral vision, the scaled tail of a snake retreated, cutting like a knife through the night.

"Come and play?" The Echidna laughed softly. Annabeth grinned, and got unsteadily to her feet.

"He killed you when you were sleeping didn't he, Argus? And Percy killed you in an explosion. I guess I'll just have to find my own way, am I right?"

"What are going to do, daughter of Athena?"

"What a daughter of Athena does best right," Annabeth smiled, "Think."

As it turned out, Annabeth was not gifted even one precious second to ponder upon what to do. Echidna bared her teeth, and pounced suddenly. Annabeth grunted. She rolled to the side and came up holding another dagger from her other boot. It was odd, how she went from a little girl, alone in the woods, to a trained killer. She wielded the blades with deadly precision, striking home again and again. Echidna, however, was strong. The pair fought back and forth, slashing a stabbing a pushing further into the shadows of the trees. Echidna struck Annabeth suddenly, a wound that snaked itself down her arm. The demigod clamped down on a cry as she staggered backwards. She hefted a knife and struck a glancing blow to the Echidna's chest. It slashed through fabric and flesh. The monster bellowed in pain, and bent over double.

"I will kill you," she seethed, one hand clasped to her bleeding chest. Lazily, Annabeth flicked her hand, and the knife spun through the air and buried itself deep in the Echidna's temple. A monstrous, fearsome scream echoed brought he woods, and birds flew up into the sky, squealing in terror. A razor sharp nail sliced Annabeth. It hit her in the chest, exactly where Annabeth had by he monster too, and the girl staggered backwards. The wound... It had torn right through the fabric of her thick coat. And was that blood...? Never mind, she'd deal with the injury later. Gritting her teeth, Annabeth, who now realised she was on the ground, hoisted herself up using a tree trunk. The Echidna peered at her perniciously, preening through Annabeth's eyelashes. Annabeth let out a defiant shout, and swung her blade widely. In almost slow motion, the knife cut the air, and bit into soft flesh of the neck. The Echidna barely had time to gasp before she fell, her head rolling away into the bushes. But at the same time, the Echidna managed to again raise a hand, and a collection of razor sharp nails struck Annabeth chest. And Annabeth did not constrain the scream that shredded her throat to little pieces, as she fell to ground.

Deciding she didn't care wether or not somebody passed and saw her, Annabeth peeled off her coat, jumper and shirt, and slumped heavily against a tree trunk in her underwear. Blood flowed freely from her chest, and Annabeth gasped in pain. She grappled her discarded coat first, and dug out a square of ambrosia, which she devoured. It tasted like Sally's warm, freshly-baked cookies. Still, Annabeth gasped in agony. She risked another square... Perhaps another. Once she had eaten as much as she dared, Annabeth, weak and with trembling fingers, though ever so slightly better from the ambrosia rummaged in the other pocket until she pulled out a flask of nectar. She tipped it upside down and poured it onto the wound, which immediately began to heal slightly. But nonetheless, blood still flowed. And pain still flared. Annabeth grabbed her T-shirt and pressed it anxiously to her bleeding chest, hoping to staunch the blood. The red liquid stained the white top. She would not look. Could not look. She had pulled through much worse experiences and she would make it this time. Desperately, Annabeth glanced about herself for something to bind the T-shirt to herself with. Oh gods, she wanted Percy. Anyone really, but Percy most of all.

The bag... Annabeth cried in pain, but inched towards it. There was ribbon in there, tying one of the gifts together. Yes, there it was. It was agonisingly painful, put somehow, Annabeth managed to make as best a makeshift bandage she could make on the circumstances. If only she could ring someone, but there was no signal in the isolated part of the forest. Using a tree as support, Annabeth heaved herself up. The pain was beginning to subside though, and with a hand pressed firmly against her chest, Annabeth gathered up her belongings and trekked the final half mile to the house

Somehow, Annabeth made it back without blacking out from pain or blood loss. She collapsed panting against the door frame, her head spinning, aware of the biting cold on her chest, the blood that at least had the small mercy to be warm against her bare skin. Helen opened the door, and for a moment, deadly silence spread over them, where Helen just put a hand to her mouth and gaped. Then, "Oh fuck it. Oh fuck, Frederick! Oh god Frederick come quick!"

Annabeth's father came running down the hall, Bobby and Matthew behind him.

"Oh my god. Oh my god," Frederick muttered, "Bobby go and get bandages immediately. Oh my god."

Bobby sprinted upstairs to get the requested item, whilst Helen put an arm around Annabeth's shoulder to support her.

"I'm fine," Annabeth grunted, "I've had worse."

"Just... Just, oh god Annabeth." Natalie, Henry and Magnus were nowhere to be seen, as Helen lead Annabeth to the sofa, and lowered her down gingerly. Gently, she removed the makeshift bandaid Annabeth had made, to reveal an ugly wound.

"Oh shit."

"I'm fine," Annabeth repeated, "I had ambrosia, nectar, it worked a bit."

"It's not poisoned?" Helen whispered. Annabeth shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Oh my god."

"I'll be fine, look," Annabeth sat up, only to hear the horrible, sickening sound of tearing flesh as the wound ripped open again.

"Just take it easy," Helen helped Annabeth back to lean against the backrest. Her voice was a pretence of calm, but beneath the façade, her panic was blatant. Bobby came down just then, bandages in hand, he sat down at the other end of he sofa, as Helen fumbled with a bandage. Frederick descended the stairs with bottle of antiseptic, and just the sight of that stinging liquid made Annabeth quake.

"I'm fine guys. I had ambrosia and nectar. I'll live."

"You're not fine," Helen said firmly. She held out a hand for the liquor and then held it up for Annabeth to see. "This will hurt okay?" She unscrewed the cap and a drop, another drop, dripped out and struck the wound. Annabeth sucked in breath as an awful stinging racked her body. Helen grabbed a bandage and, with a hand on her step-daughter's back, helped her up into a sitting position.

"Keep still." Helen wrapped the bandage firmly around the room. It sat tight beneath Annabeth's breast, done so well, it took Annabeth by an icy hand of surprise.

"Thank you," she muttered. Helen just nodded, and Frederick crouched before before her.

"What happened?" He asked. Annabeth shrugged. "Echidna. But honestly, I'm alright. It'll hurt, but I'll be okay. I've had a lot of injuries in the past, many worse than this. It's becoming normal."

"Echi- who now?" Matthew asked.

"Echidna. Some Greek monster. Come back to bite."

Annabeth shivered, suddenly cold. She glanced down about herself, and was suddenly self conscious to sitting here half naked, even if it was just with her family.

"Can I have my top back please?" She asked. Helen shook her head, and held it out for Annabeth to see. It was a bloody mess. Quite literally.

"I'll go and get another one then."

Annabeth made to get up, but was retrained by Helen, who held her down. Admittedly, Annabeth was thankful, as a desperate pain snaked it's way up her body.

"I'll get you one." Helen

"Where are the others?" Annabeth asked. "Natalie, Henry and Magnus,"

Helen looked surprised by the sudden change of tack, and it was Frederick who answered. "They went to get coal for the fire, they'll be back any minute. We need to hurry up."

"Can I have a bath?"

"You can't get the bandage wet."

Annabeth sighed deeply. "Can someone get me my books and my phone then please, I think I'm going to be here a while."


	43. Chapter 43

By the time Magnus, Natalie and Henry had come home, the living room was a façade of normality. Annabeth sat besides Frederick, animatedly discussing with him the plot of Wuthering Heights, Helen was tickling Matthew on the floor and Bobby played Minecraft on his mother's iPad.

"Hey guys!" Natalie dumped the bag of coal besides the fireplace, "You got all those gifts, Annabeth?"

Annabeth glanced up from a passionate conversation about the character of Heathcliff, and nodded, wincing against the screaming of her wound. Still, Annabeth forced a smile.

"Yeah, costly though." A slight laugh. Gods, her ribs hurt.

"Well, I'm sure you could save up for it. Maybe a Saturday job?" There was a tone not entirely serious beneath Natalie's layers of speech. Annabeth gaped, and shook her head fervently.

"I'm fine, thank you."

Coming from the kitchen, Magnus sat heavily down on the left over space on the sofa, causing Annabeth to bob up ever so slightly. Almost imperceptibly, she sucked in air, cursing in Ancient Greek under her breath.

"Is dinner ready!?" Matthew called, having stopped rolling on the floor with his tummy tickled.

"It's not even in the oven yet!" Henry shouted back from the kitchen, where a large chicken sat on the table. He waddled out into the living room, wiping his brow.

"Why don't the kids cook the dinner today?" Henry asked.

"That's a good idea," Natalie agreed, "Magnus, you can cook roast chicken, can't you?"

Magnus sighed deeply, but shrugged and nodded anyway. From her state of quiescence on the sofa, Annabeth sat up a little straighter, and the effort sent a screaming throb down her side.

"No," she moaned, like a stubborn child. Nothing more than a naive, stubborn little girl, "I don't want to."

"Come on, Annabeth," Magnus grunted, rising from the couch, "We can make Bobby and Matthew do most of it."

"But I don't want to get up."

In the corner of her eye, Annabeth saw Helen tilt her head towards her.

"Try," she said, gently, and fixed her with a look that said in the greatest simplicity: 'Come back if you feel pain. But if they find out about what happened we're all dead.'

With a deep sigh to echo Magnus's, Annabeth slowly lifted herself from the sofa. Her movement were rigid, as she was sure her family noticed, but she didn't particularly care. Annabeth constantly was injured in such ways. If she could crawl through hell with a broken ankle, she could walk across a living room with an almost completely healed wound. This thought to jar her, Annabeth crossed to the kitchen behind her cousin with little trepidation. Two squawking ten year olds trotted in her wake, anxious for that little, seldom piece of adult responsibility they so coveted.

The kitchen was cluttered with crockery. With unwashed plates - or were they already washed? With discarded cutlery and tea towels strewn across the table. Boxes of cereal littered the countertop, and bowls - only the gods new their use - were oddly stacked upon each other on the cupboard. And there, laying like a righteous, arrogant king in a throng of its poverty-rendered subjects, lay the chicken. Magnus sighed - again - and rolled up his sleeves. He lifted the chicken, only to let it clatter back onto the table top.

"Man, that thing's heavy," He muttered. Annabeth, if a little pridefully, rolled her eyes. She made sure her cousin was watching, and hefted the platter up as easily as if it were a feather. It was placed on the countertop by her calloused hands, and she turned to Magnus, allowing herself the luxury of a small smirk.

"That, Thor," Annabeth said, "Is how we do things."

"Thor?"

"You sorta look like him. Considerably less muscular but... Sort of."

Magnus punched her playfully, but yelped as his hand came hard against solid muscle, earned by ten years of fighting for one's life.

"Holy god," he flexed his fingers gingerly, "I swear you're made of iron."

Again, Annabeth rolled her eyes, and opted not to say anything.

Nattering excitedly, Bobby and Matthew carried between them the chicken over to the table. Such table had been laid by two very bored and rather moody teenagers, and now the four children were seemingly required to wait on their ageing parents.

"Is the oven off, Annabeth, honey?" Helen called from the table. Annabeth blinked in surprise. It took a moment for her to register what her stepmother has just said. Rather there was the certainty, the overwhelming certainty of her stepmother's fond lingo. The word she had used to describe Annabeth. The one that was such a simple, mundane thing to most daughters, but to the demigod a foreign, strange matter when coming from the rosebud lips of her stepmother.

"Hello?" Helen asked, and when Annabeth looked at her, as the woman spoke, she saw with a start that the tongue was no longer forked, but healed with jagged stitches.

"Oh, sorry," Annabeth furrowed her brow like paper, and bent to examine the stove.

"Yep," she confirmed, through gritted teeth, bared against the pain of her wound, "It's off."

Annabeth hoped that the parent's liking of the food was not a pretence, but most likely, it was. The chicken tasted rubbery in her mouth, the salad was over-dressed and the bread they had bought was a little bit stale. In fact, the only nice aspect of the food was the chips, which were crispy and golden. Spattered around the table, were the beginnings of conversation that arose like bursts of mist:

"Studying hard?"

"School's going great, thank you."

"Bobby! Oh Bobby keep clear of the pan, it's still hot."

"Dammit Annabeth, mind out!"

"I need a tea towel! Where's a tea towel?"

And so, it was a little while before the sparse, little specks of talk between pairs and threes finally was overturned in favour of a conversation including with the entirety of the Chase family.

"Looking forwards to Christmas then, kids?" Frederick asked politely. Simultaneously, all four children glanced up inquisititively, in the way one does when caught off guard when asked a question. Frederick raised an eyebrow, and Bobby nodded earnestly in acknowledgement and answer to the aforementioned question. Matthew, meanwhile, shrugged, and said

"'S'pose so. But will Santa find us here?"

Magnus and Annabeth exchanged a humoured glance, and a bout of giggles rose in Annabeth's throat, squeezing her jugular like a tight grip of a hand. Magnus too, appeared to be restraining an amused smile. Though this, Annabeth reached out and patted Matthew on the arm. "I'm sure he will!" She said.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because he told me so himself," Annabeth responded. Matthew was about to open his mouth, if in contradiction of hushed acquiescence Annabeth did not know, when Bobby dug him in the ribs.

"There is no Father Christmas dummy," he exclaimed. Matthew looked uncertain.

"Yes there is!"

"No there isn't!"

Frederick cut through their conversation like knife. "Yes there is guys. I saw him myself as a little boy."

Matthew gasped, "Really!?"

A smile flickered on Frederick's lips. "Yes, we were on winter vacation up North, it was cold and snowing, we were tired looking for a place to stay and..." And so came a silence as Frederick Chase wove his masterful story of a long list of childhood dreams and fantasies, entwined with Santa ghettos and little elves with pointed ears. A silence, tense and intrigued as a man told of a fragment of the past, one laden with innocence and a one where - when - nothing really mattered. Where his words wrapped around the family and took them away to snow and ice and laughter. And Frederick told. And like ravenous beasts, the family listened.

Once plates were cleared, and Henry was fetching the desert, the subject of conversation finally turned.

"So have you considered where you want to go to college, Annabeth?" Natalie asked. The question brought reality crashing down around the young woman. The reality of a land so far away from these holidays and the wisps of snow falling from the heavens. She shrugged. "Percy and I were thinking of going together to... um," Annabeth deliberated how to tell them the name of the college she was going to. She couldn't very well say 'New Rome.' Helplessly, she glanced at her parents.

"It's a new college all the way in Cali," Frederick supplied, and Annabeth nodded in agreement.

"That's very cool. And Helen tells me you want to be an architect."

"Yes. Definitely. I'm not sure what Percy wants to do though, I offered Marine Biology, but he said he needs time to think." She took a large spoonful of chocolate mousse, partly to avoid talking any more, and partly because it was simply very tasty.

Annabeth's immediate family - that was to say; Helen, Frederick, Matthew and Bobby - who knew about Percy's lineage - his heritage as son of Poseidon - laughed quietly, whilst the others smiled in that interested-but-not-so way. Natalie opened her mouth, a mischievous look about her eyes.

"And how long have you and Percy been dating,"

Annabeth felt a blush crawl up from her neck to her face, and she found herself studying a very interesting piece of tiling on the floor. Every book character her age was completely fine with such topics about dating and their romantic life, but for some reason, at seventeen, Annabeth still went scarlet whenever someone mentioned anything to do with love, and her and Percy. Because she was young. She was in love. And adults loved those topics so. Annabeth glanced down at her mousse and wished she hadn't eaten it quite so quickly. So instead, she casually waved her spoon in the air, hoping nobody had noticed her embarrassment.

"A year and a half. But he was my best friend since I was twelve so..." Annabeth did not know what the 'so' meant, and to complete the sentence, glanced up at her father and the tub of mousse before him, "Can you pass the mousse please- I'm still hungry."

Frederick rolled his eyes, but obliged.

Later that night, the sleeping plans were being arranged, with much going around in circles. Frederick and Helen were worried. They wanted Annabeth to sleep on the sofa in the living room with her, lest something happened, but Annabeth was insisting she'd be fine. As fine as she could be in the Dark Hours anyway.

"Please, Annabeth," Helen whispered whilst the others were busying themselves with nighttime routines of brushed teeth and flannel pyjamas. "I'll sleep easier."

"Oh, believe me you won't sleep any easier at all with me here. It'll be worse."

"Okay, fine. It may not ease my sleep, but it'll ease my conscience at least."

Annabeth gently put a hand to her stepmother's arm. "I'm going to say this as tactfully as possible," Annabeth said kindly, "But I have managed for ten years without you. I can manage another night."

Helen sighed deeply, a sigh that echoed through the room and out of the window into the rolling landscapes and vast expanse of sea. She smiled wanly, and nodded in acceptance, that 'no, she had not been there for most of stepdaughter's childhood, and that was wrong.'

"But can you blame me?" Helen inquired quietly.

"I can try not to." Annabeth whispered back.

"Look guys," Frederick said, interrupting what could have been a very awkward moment. "If Annabeth can sleep here, and Helen or I stay, then we can help with nightmares and make sure you're all right."

Annabeth jutted her chin up. "I want you to be able to sleep. I don't want to obstruct you that. And I don't want you to baby me. Besides you can't help with the nightmares. And I'll be fine! Don't worry."

"Don't be silly, and stop playing the martyr."

"I'm not playing the martyr."

"What's a martyr!?" Bobby yelled from the downstairs bathroom, adjacent to the the living room where Annabeth, Helen and Frederick currently where.

"Shut up and keep your nose out of other people's business," Annabeth yelled back at her brother. Bobby appeared, leaning against the doorframe with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth like a thermometer, and trousers practically half down his legs.

"It is if I'm family," he challenged. Wearily, Helen rubbed her eyes.

"Bobby, can you just leave us be a moment... And where is your brother, he's gone off somewhere."

"Here!" Yelled a voice from the kitchen.

"Just go upstairs to bed, both of you."

"What's a martyr?" Bobby asked again, but already he he was yawning, and lazily trotting up the stairs to the bedroom.

Once the shadow of the two young boys had disappeared on the upper landing, and the click of the lock was audible, Helen sat heavily down on the sofa and gesticulated for Annabeth to do the same. Gladly, for the injury on her chest was stinging wildly, Annabeth sat down slowly, and yawned.

"So here's the deal," Helen said, "You and I sleep down here, you and your father sleep down here, or I guess you can sleep with your brothers and Magnus. But you'd have to sleep in the bunk beds because of your chest, the bunk beds which, for the record, are too small for you."

"Generous options, you've given me."

"Hmm, well, go and brush your teeth, get dressed and then we'll see okay? Frederick, help her up."

"I can get up fine by myself, thank you," Annabeth muttered. She rose from the couch and stumbled over to the stairs. One hand braced on the banister, Annabeth ascended with a surprising amount of ease.

Annabeth was on her way back from the laborious task of brushing her teeth when her phone rang. She frowned, as the name of her boyfriend blinked up at her. It was rather late at night for a phone call, wasn't it? Annabeth slid to answer rather nervously, and held the phone to her ear. There was no greeting, no pleasantries, only a frantic, shrill, "I just remembered I have to do a speech!"

In the foyer in the house, a long distance away from this panicked boy, Annabeth frowned.

"A speech? What for? What do you mean... Oh. I see. For Grover's wedding. What's the problem?"

"I'll be like Sherlock at John's wedding!"

"Well... I can't deny that, but-"

"Oh thanks,"

"-But as I was saying, that ended well enough."

"Ha! After a crisis and a nearly murdered general!"

Annabeth was at the door to the living room now. She paused with her hand on the handle. "Well there won't be a crisis, Seaweed Brain."

"But I'll be nervous and mess up."

"You'll do great- I'll be right there with you. So will be rest of the Seven."

"I'm not even good at speech writing or anything of the sort, how am I suppose to do it."

"Perce," Annabeth said patiently, she opened the door a crack and slipped into the empty living room, "I promise it'll be alright. I'll help you prepare in Montauk. With me, as a daughter of Athena, your mother as an author and Paul as an English teacher, you'll do the best speech ever."

"Mm, I guess you're right."

"Am I ever not?"

"Well, there was one time-"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

"Well, I'm going to go to sleep now, alright Sherlock? Or try to. You should probably do the same seeing as its nearly one."

"Goodnight then, love you."

"Well your love is requited. Now before this gets cheesy-"

"What does requited mean?"

"Good night Seaweed Brain, call me if you need anything."

"But what does requi- Oh alright, 'night Wise Girl. Call me if you need anything also."

By the time Matthew had wandered back into the room, demanding who she had been taking to, Annabeth's phone was hidden away under the cushions.

"Talking to someone?" She asked innocently, "I wasn't talking to anyone."


	44. Chapter 44

**Disclaimer: Yes, someday I will write something to trump or at least tie with PJO (haha I'm so idealistic wtf ? that's not gonna happen) but for now, Rick owns (my soul) PJO and all the characters save my OCs. *cue evil laugh for no reason***

 **It** had been argued. Deliberated. Contended with. And finally, after chastising and sprinting in circles, Annabeth settled down on the sofa with a resigned sigh, as Helen lay down quilts on the floor and made to sleep. Already, the lights had been switched off, and Annabeth leant against the backrest of the couch, staring about herself at the embellished shadows that robed the room in a long travelling cloak. Travelling, because by morning, they would be gone, in favour of shards of light that shattered with every step.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" Annabeth asked her stepmother, aware of how plaintive and childlike her voice sounded. Helen groaned, and there was the sound of rustling as she rolled onto her side.

"Just try to go to sleep, Annabeth. I'm not sure what we're doing tomorrow. Maybe hiking."

"I thought I wasn't suppose to be able to walk, let alone hike."

"Mm. Well we'll see what we'll do."

Annabeth yawned, and burrowed down like a rabbit into the blankets atop her, so that only her blonde head stuck out. She peered into the hollow darkness, wondering what horrors, what phantoms of her mind, and those more incarnate shadows, it had in store for her this night. Something tickled Annabeth's face, and she gave a start, only to feel foolish when realising it was a simply a wisp of curly blonde hair.

"Are you alright?" Helen whispered.

"I'm fine," Annabeth confirmed, "This is a little surreal though."

There was the sound of a muffled laugh, and the whispering of wind which echoed through the room somewhere outside. As if someone had turned on a light switch, Annabeth was sudden aware of every little noise. There was the beeping of the oven. The clock ticking like a bomb. The refrigerator whirred and whirred and whirred. Gods that was annoying. And was that the waves against the shore or the clapping of a hundred hands? Distant blares of horns. An owl. Even the stars scraping against the night sky were the loudest of roars. Annabeth frowned, and pulled the covers up over her. She closed her her eyes. She breathed in. Out. In. Out. Breathing so that each ire-inducing little noise became one with her breaths and slowly, slowly, her eyes closed like curtains drawn across a stormy grey sky.

'I'll stay awake, 'cause the dark's not taking prisoners tonight.' That line- just that one - from Twenty Øne Piløt's 'Ode to Sleep' was playing continuously in Annabeth's ears. Roaring and thrashing like a bloodthirsty monster. (A/N: A couple of things to say guys, a) sorry for all the TØP songs, and b) please appreciate the extremely fitting lyric your writer has presented you with, please and thank you ?.) She had abandoned trying to sleep a while ago, after awakening to stifling sobs and incessant tears burning paths down her cheeks a few hours back, and now Annabeth sat hunched on the sofa, wishing she had an energy drink in her hand to keep her eyelids from drooping shut. Helen snored quietly and rhythmically besides her, but other than that, Annabeth was now deaf to all other noise. She had her eyes squeezed shut, all too aware that if she opened them, she would see the wraiths preening at her, jeering, taunting. There would be hushed laughs in the corners. There would be skeletons in the closet - in more than one sense - and ghosts in the shadows. And then Percy's and her friends' screams would sound out like the worst nightmare - and in fact, it would be. And before her eyes, would fall images of a crawl through the fiery depths of Hell. And Annabeth: shaking and small. Small and shaking. A girl. A little girl. Still only fresh from childhood and naive dreams that one day things could be better. At night, these thoughts came; not during the day, when the sun was proud, hanging in the air. Because... Gods now another line was in her head: 'Why am I not scared in the morning? I don't hear those voices calling!' And so the song went on. Annabeth gulped, receding back into the corner of the couch.

'Why, won't you let me go?"

A throbbing head ache now.

"Do I threaten all your plans?'

Hands trembling, reaching desperately for the torch at her side. That little flicker of hope.

'I'm insignificant,'

And gods, she wished she was. But Percy had been a catalyst, and so had Leo, and so they had embarked on a quest, and it hadn't been solely that quest, it had been since she was twelve. And then she had stopped being insignificant. And gods, her thoughts were straying, she had lost control of that leash. They were nonsensical and chaotic and what was she saying, thinking, breathing, talking, laughing, singing..?

'Please tell them, you have no plans for me,'

If only, but the gods always had something stored away, some ridiculous quest to ruin a poor demigod's soul with.

'I will set my soul on fire,'

Oh gods, Leo...

"Annabeth?"

Until that voice spoke, Annabeth hadn't realised how hard she'd been shaking. She blinked, and turned her head to where Helen lay on the mattress, almond eyes bright and worried in the moonlight.

"I'm fine," Annabeth replied, but aware, even as she spoke, that her voice was frayed with fear. In the darkness, a hand reached out and hesitantly squeezed Annabeth's arm. A tender, comforting gesture from a mother to a daughter. And though hesitant it was, uncertain and inquiring, Annabeth was glad for that show of tender concern. The hand withdrew gently back, and Annabeth slipped deep into the covers again.

"How's your chest?" The same, eloquent voice of Helen's.

"It's alright."

"That's good."

A silence settled over both woman, one where each weighed what to say, where both yearned to fill that freighted quietness, but also were desperate to keep it in place, as if any syllable would shatter it like glass. Annabeth turned gingerly into her side, so that her head dug into the supposed back rest. She forced her eyes open, refusing to let them close. Refusing to succumb to the horrors her slumber wrought. But still, even as she brought in hoards of thought to her mind, even as she set alight her brain so that it hummed with electricity, her imagination - that beautiful gift that was also a curse, in the way of Pandora's box - turned towards Percy, and despite her furious struggle, Annabeth found herself lulled to sleep with an image of a laughing boy and eyes that, to her at least, held the whole world in their deep green hues. Her last thought before her thoughts clouded over was, 'Get a grip on yourself Annabeth Chase.'

There was a scream, and Annabeth whirled.

A scream.

A scream.

One so familiar.

As she turned, the acrid, stinging hot air seemed to tear at her skin.

"Percy!?"She cried desperately into the darkness. Not a plea for help, but calling to see where the hell he was. And Annabeth supposed that where in hell was a more fitting name. Because as those hoarse words left her parched throat, cracked lips, Annabeth became suddenly aware of the shroud of red mist and the pungent odour explicit only to the - to this - very place of nightmares. The scream rang out again, followed by a sound as if someone were trying to piece together a string of words, but could not quite manage. In answer, Annabeth roared back. She gave a yelp as a flicker of a flame licked her arms. For a moment, Annabeth just stared transfixed as the angry, bright red fire burned away the cloth of her clothes on her arm, her flesh that seemed to bubble as it was slowly, slowly blackening and burning, burning, burning... Mesmerised... Enthralling... It was only once it had reached her chest, that Annabeth really realised what was happening. Pain lashed out at her, and Annabeth bit back on a scream of horror and agony alike. She flung back startled only to be greeted with... Oh gods. Something huge and dark; Something malevolent and primitive; scalding her back. Annabeth stumbled backwards and fell. How she screamed, in that shrill way she had had promised herself she never would. And here she was, engulfed in a blanket of waltzing flames and burning embers. Red danced before her eyes. Blood red tinged with sunset orange. An oxymoron, wasn't it? And gods, she was dying. She was floating. Gods, gods! Annabeth tried to make a noise, but her mouth had dried out, tongue of the roughest sandpaper. She tried to stand, only to fall giggling back onto the floor. Giggling? Why was she giggling? No, now she screamed?

"Annabeth!" Cut a voice through the catastrophe. Somehow, Annabeth regained the ability to be able to whisper, "Percy?"

"Help!" Called the voice back.

A creative stream of curses was suddenly audible, and Annabeth was unsure who had uttered them. She got up. Tripped. Picked herself up and tripped again.

Finally, with a ragged gasp, Annabeth managed to lift herself. She limped and stumbled over to a dark shape in the flames. A human figure. It was groaning. Moaning.

"Percy?" She whispered, halfway there, amongst the debris and scorching, merciless flames. A shaking hand reached towards her, and Annabeth ran- limp forgotten - to the fallen boy.

"Oh gods!"

Percy let out a whimper that filled the ghastly air, and flooded every pore of Annabeth's body. "No, don't go." But even so, Percy's composure was becoming slack. "No, no!" Annabeth grappled desperately at his body, turning him on his side. She turned his face - his body - to her and gasped. His clothes had been almost completely burnt off, to reveal a mangled, bloodied torso. And wings. Wings of the most ebony, Stygian black protruding from his toned shoulder blades. He was no fallen boy. He was a fallen angel... And through the haze of boiling rage, where Annabeth screamed to all the gods and cried out for a little bit of help - little seldom piece of hope - Percy's eyes were bright. They still held childish naivety and gorgeous dreams. His lips twitched upwards in the flicker of a smile. A hand grazed her's.

"See you in Elysium," and then his eyes glazed over, and Annabeth screamed until her soul was ripped from her body.

"Annabeth?"

Annabeth jolted awake, bolting upright and colliding with another body. Somebody groaned.

Annabeth frowned, receding back into the covers, trying to stop herself shaking. Clamping down on the whimper tearing at her jugular. She refused it. She was Annabeth Chase. She was stronger than this.

"God, are you okay?" Said a deep, masculine voice. Annabeth squinted into the inky darkness, trying to discern who the large figure hunched over her was.

"Who is this?" She whispered feebly.

"It's Magnus."

Oh. Oh gods, she had made a fool of herself. An utter fool. Annabeth swore under her breath.

"It's okay," he muttered, and grabbed her arm, "Come on. Don't wake up Helen."

"Where are we going?"

"To the garden."

"Why?"

"Heck, so that you don't fall asleep again and scream so loudly the entire house wakes."

Annabeth bared her teeth at her cousin, and scowled. "Only you woke up," she hissed at him.

"Actually, I came down for a glass of water but, okay. Just come on."

"Gods, okay. Calm down."

As quietly as she dared, and as gently, because of her wounded chest, Annabeth swung her feet off the sofa and tottered up to her cousin. She found herself off-kilter from getting up too quickly after quickly, and latched. herself into the the coffee table to steady herself. There was the quiet hissing of the sliding doors being opened, and a cool air filtered into the living room, kissing Annabeth's cheeks. They were soft, gentle kisses like a lover's. One's that though careful and calculated, could be passionate and reckless and violent if so the need called.

Annabeth blinked, and made her way cautiously to her cousin. She stepped out into the garden, the briny air tingling her skin, the leaves rustling like an audience readying themselves for a spectacle, the calming, hypnotic chirping of crickets. Magnus yawned, and fell back onto the wooden bench. After closing the door silently, Annabeth followed suite, and relished in the pleasant chill and the solidness of the seat beneath her. She leaned back and closed her eyes, inhaling the intoxicating scents of the night. The moonlight caressed her face, the moon's glare that first spilled its way out onto the black sea, and chased its way up the grassy slopes to the two cousins sitting in the garden. Annabeth breathed in contentedly, revelling in the ease settling in her stomach.

"Spill," said a voice. Annabeth jumped suddenly, and whipped her eyes open again, like the shutters on a window opened without a warning.

"Yeah?" She asked uncertainly.

"You're dream,"

It was just a dream, Thor. Nothing special."

"You were screaming. You were calling for Percy, and some other names. You were blabbering on about fallen angels, ravenous fires, and Hell, Annabeth!"

Annabeth inspected her nails in the dim light, wondering if they were sharp enough to rake down her cousin's face before she let something slip. Instead, she shrugged. "I always have nightmares."

"Yes, but nightmares don't make most people thrash like a tethered animal and scream themselves hoarse. And believe me, Annabeth," Magnus raised his voice an octave higher, shrill and almost ear-piercing, "I know you're limping! Badly. You weren't before. I'm not blind for the love of God!"

Annabeth's grey eyes were the darkest of storms, but Magnus didn't back down. "Maybe I fell over," she seethed. And if you had the summer - the life - I had, you would react exactly the same, believe me!" Annabeth leapt up, suddenly thrumming with anger. She made to storm away, but Magnus caught her arm.

"Tell me," he implored, "I'm your cousin!"

Annabeth yanked her arm away with a violent swing, "No." She whispered, her voice like the venomous bite of a rattlesnake's, "I can't, and gods, you wouldn't believe me even if I did. And you would care!"

"Why do you say that? That I wouldn't care?"

"Because- because..." Annabeth spread her hands, for once at loss at what to say. Magnus raised his eyebrow infuriatingly.

"I'm going to be a therapist when I'm older. I can help."

Annabeth went suddenly cold all over. Cold and angry and raging. Insulted. Shamed. She wanted to snap at the air. To bite it like a wild animal. "I don't need therapy," she spat. Fury drummed through her veins. The trees seemed to lean in curiously.

"Then tell me what happened to you this summer."

"No." Annabeth ground out, on her feet in the wet grass that licked her toes.

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Annabeth swore at him then. Long and hard and with the greatest profanity. He didn't even flinch. Just stared at her with an unnerving, infuriating coolness of one trained to deal with the crazy. The mad. The insane. But she wasn't insane. Gods, no, she wasn't. And so much she wanted to unload some of this burden onto her cousin. So much... Gods. But her willpower. What had become of it? She could not let it crumble like ash.

"Tell me," Magnus said again. This time, Annabeth just sighed. She resumed her seat besides her cousin, suddenly drained of energy and will. "I won't tell you all of it. But I'll tell you some of it." She finally relented.

Hours later, Magnus was gaping at his cousin with an expression synonymous to that of a goldfish's. The words had just tripped off Annabeth's tongue like verbal diarrhoea. She hadn't wanted them to come, but still, She had found herself recounting to him her summer. She had not told him explicitly of her mother being a goddess, but had still spun him the tale of endless quests. Lightning bolts and seas of monsters and the sky on one's shoulder and labyrinths and a... A 'something' she had said, with the intent of tearing down the very foundations of the world. Of a camp filled with laughter and summer picnics, but also, primarily, of Greek triremes soaring like birds in the sky. Of Greece and Rome and Malta and Delos. Of a large, imposing statue. Of a force stirring- of the earth wanting to surface and slaughter. And of course, of hell. Of the birthday in Tartarus. Of holding hands with a lover as one crawled through the deepest, darkest layer of the world. She had not told him in detail. The tears had been enough. And the whole time Magnus had just stared wordlessly, face leeched of colour, knowing he could offer nothing more comforting than a warm presence and open ears.


	45. Chapter 45

"Oh," said a voice, "Hey, guys. You're up early."

Annabeth and Magnus looked up sleepily from slivers of toast and third mugs of coffee. Descending the stairs, was a rather tired looking Natalie. She offered a wry smile, and made her way over to the table, where she kissed her son and gave her niece a tentative hug. Then she slid into her chair with an audible 'thump.'

"Sleep okay guys?"

Both children merely shrugged. That casual indifference expected of teenagers and their arrogant attitudes. Unruffled by their lack of enthusiasm, Natalie shook open a newspaper, and began to read with a passion. With a gratified feeling, at her aunt not attempting to engage her in conversation, Annabeth glanced down at her lap, and then at her hands, her arms. She realised, with a start, that she had not yet slathered on concealer, and her scars were emblazoned, branded on her skin for the entirety of the world to gawk at. There was a slight grunt, and Annabeth glanced up to see her cousin, curiously peering at the gashes marring her tanned skin. Such wounds he had missed in the dim, faded light of the garden and hollow night. A concerned look entered his eye, like an uninvited guest at a party. Annabeth shot him a rueful glance. The previous night, she had indeed told him of the scars, but the demigod supposed her cousin had not quite expected quite how harsh, how stark and ugly, those wounds were. She had not told him of her affiliation with gods, or anything resembling any aspect of what may be considered magic, but had still slipped him the knowledge of her impossible, endless stream of quests; of triremes and betrayals and bronze flashing in the air, and- and yes, Hell: all those dangers that would make the strongest man or woman recoil. Of such things that were enough to make his lips part so wide one could fit the whole earth in the gap between them. Eyes that shone in horror so sharp, Annabeth could almost cut herself just by looking at her cousin. Ears that were cocked up in avid fascination, thirsty for more stories, but also hungry to comfort his cousin's shaking figure.

A sudden creaking of floorboards made Annabeth jump. She glanced up from her hands to where Helen and Matthew stood in true doorframe, faces haggard and wan from too little sleep.

"Good morning," Annabeth found herself saying. Whilst her stepmother acknowledged this with a wave of a hand, Matthew was already traversing the perils of the dining room to reach the chocolate cereal. Oblivious to his family's staring eyes, he hummed joyfully as a steady stream Coco Pops cascaded from packet. Annabeth watched him, jealous at the simple, childish ease with which he went about each task, unhindered by any troublesome, burdening memory of a haunted past. There was the rustling of paper, and a voice spoke out against the bumbling of early-morning routine.

"Sleep well?" Natalie asked, most likely just for the mundane sake of conversation. Again, the two teenagers in company, Annabeth and Magnus, glanced up from their breakfast. In unison, they shrugged. Natalie rolled her eyes, but went back to her newspaper without admonition. Annabeth glanced at her arms again, and decided to take this as an opportunity to excuse herself and get dressed.

Upstairs, clothed in jeans and a crisp Camp shirt, Annabeth tentatively held up a bottle of concealer. It was thankful that it was snowing, so Annabeth had no need to worry about the scars on her limbs- such ones as that on her thigh; that one that held such a painful story behind it - but still her face bore a smattering of ugly bruises and a marring of scars on her left cheek. The mirror held her reflection, which stared back at her as a hollow shell of a girl. Annabeth sighed deeply, taking in the deep bags beneath her eyes, the light bloodshot, bleary tinge to that stormy grey, the pale sheen to her tanned face.

"Annabeth?" There was a sharp knock on the bathroom door: one knock, two knocks, three, "Are you okay?"

Annabeth started at her father's voice, and the bottle in her hand went clattering to the floor with a resounding 'crash.'

"Annabeth?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Was her muffled reply, as she bent to retrieve it. The wound in her chest groaned in pain... oh, the wound... she should probably check on it.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go away, can I have some privacy please?" Nobody wanted their father standing outside their door as they went about their business in the bathroom.

"Okay, don't be so arrogant."

"Just... five minutes."

"Okay, we're going hiking now, so wrap up warm."

"But-"

"Just see how you feel."

"Go away, please."

Annabeth waited until the footfalls had faded, before peeling off her top and tentatively unraveling the bandage bound around her chest. She sucked in air to find the ugly scar left by that fight with the Echidna. A baleful gash tore through her tanned flesh, and on closer inspection, Annabeth saw just how close to her heart it had been. Though the worst of it was almost gathered at the top of her midriff, part of it stretched right up between her breasts, to kiss her heart. So easily, with just a touch more force, Annabeth could easily have been dead. The thought was not a pleasant one, and Annabeth quickly shoved it away before it could plague her mind and take over. The wound seemed to be pretty much healed, and blood no longer flowed. To assure herself of the latter fact, Annabeth stretched slightly, but the wound held firm, and did not tear. Good. She no longer needed the bandage. Disposing of it could be a problem though. There was the steady clacking of heels on the steps, and somebody rapped on the door in quick succession. Again? Really?

"Annabeth! Come downstairs, we need to go!" Helen called. Annabeth groaned deeply, frustrated and irked by the interruption.

"Just give me a minute, I'm trying to put on concealer."

Taking the silence on the other side of the door as acquiescence, Annabeth coughed pointedly until the sounds of retreating footsteps faded into the din of the morning. With the ease of one well practised, Annabeth prised open the lid and smeared the concoction of concealer onto her face, masking the scars that lined her countenance like contours. Then she pulled back on her orange Camp T-Shirt, her warm coat over it and ducked out of the door and into the empty landing.

What greeted her was a frigid draft and a flurry of ravenous snow from the open window, that floated inside like a butterfly and kissed every inch of Annabeth's face. Outside, a ravened wind howled, and stalked its prey with lethal skill. Annabeth shivered, curling her feet up inside her woollen socks, hugging the coat tighter against her lean figure. She made her way down the stairs, and perhaps it was just her, but each footstep, each creak of the step, each slide of a hand down the wooden banister, seemed louder than before. As though it was trying to make itself heard against the violent maelstrom outside. By the time she had reached the base of the stairwell, a small knot of people were gathered by the door, bedecked in hats and boots and coats that trailed behind them like cloaks. The first thing Helen said was: "You're wearing your Camp shirt?"

Annabeth creased her brow, and bunched the hem of the top up in her fists, burying her chin into the neckline line a defensive child.

"It's nostalgic," she complained. Then came her father, who stared at her in disbelief, and asked: "What the hell do you think you're doing in those clothes?"

Annabeth frowned, confused. "What?"

"It's snowing- you're wearing a T-Shirt and jeans. What are you doing?"

This time, Annabeth thrust her chin into the air, "Well what are you doing, going hiking when it's snowing?"

"Don't talk to me like that- go upstairs and put a jumper on."

"I'm not five!"

Half a minute later, Annabeth pulled on a hat, gloves and strode outside into the chill. The cold was numbing. It worked itself into every fold of her clothes, weaving through the fabric to find her skin beneath. The rest of Annabeth's family followed, baring their teeth against the biting cold, shivering. At this, Annabeth turned with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I stay here? I don't fancy hiking in this weather."

Frederick grinned at her through chattering teeth. "It's an adventure. It's good for you."

"Oh believe me, I've had my share of adventures."

"You know what?" Piped up Magnus's voice, "I want to stay here too, lest I get frostbite or pneumonia and die."

"Me too," Clamoured Matthew, if only to be in the shadow of Magnus, his cousin to whom he now clung onto as a role model. "Please, its Christmas tomorrow?"

Frederick looked at his wife helplessly, but Helen merely shrugged in indifference.

"They can stay if they want, but they're going to have to scrap together lunch from the fish fingers in the oven."

"We'll decorate the tree, and wrap the presents, too." Bobby declared, with the finality of of judge in court.

"Fine. Whatever. But I really can't believe you all," Frederick said, fishing the keys out of his pocket, "When I was a kid, I would have been desperate to-"

"When you were a kid," Annabeth cut in smoothly, "Times were different. Who cares that as a boy you loved playing in the snow and freezing your fingers off? But we're going to embrace the wonders of this generation, not yours." Annabeth caught the keys her father threw at her with stiff fingers, and smiled.

"See you later guys. Have fun."

Annabeth threw herself down on the sofa with a satisfied smirk. The fire was crackling in the hearth, and if she turned her head towards it, she could draw wisdom from the smouldering embers. It was so tantalising, so beautiful. The flames danced together, waltzing with an immeasurable grace, and the wood chirruped and roared like an excited, stirred audience. A lazy smile tugged on Annabeth's lips as she gently turned on her front, to stare into the fireplace without craning her neck. The heat was gentle, and kissed her gently but passionately. A sense of glorious tranquility settled over Annabeth's shoulder. A completed feeling that could be only made even better if she could share this serene moment with... Percy, she guessed, even if it did made her a hopeless romantic. But it wasn't simply because Percy was her boyfriend - her lover - but because he was also her best friend and a life long-companion. He was the boy who knew her deepest, darkest secrets. Those dark, hidden corners of her heart and her mind not even she deigned to explore. Gods, he was the only one who knew her fatal flaw, the one with whom she had made her infatuation with Luke plain, and such trust was requited to. In the instances where he had revealed to her that only weakness he bore after the curse of Achilles, and then, there when they had been dangling in the side of a cliff, the voracious, ravenous depth of Tartarus sprawling far beneath.

The frantic ringing of her phone stirred her from her reverie. Annabeth fished in her pocket, and withdrew her iPhone, tentative as to who it would be. She smiled though, at the name that blinked up at her, then cursed herself for the reckless love building inside her.

"Hey Seaweed Brain!"

"Hey Wise Girl! Okay?"

"I'm fine- why did you call?"

The defensiveness in Percy's voice was audible, "Why can't a guy just ring his girlfriend just for the sole reason of wanting to hear her voice? Wanting to draw love and comfort from it? I just wanted to talk to you Wise Girl."

Something in Annabeth's chest knotted up, then loosened in tender endearment. For a moment, she was unsure what to say, the savage, violent monster that was love and compassion snatching away her words, her breath. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to equate to those beautiful words Percy had spoken. She settled for, "Aw. Gods that's- that's so sweet."

On the other side of the line, there was a familiar snort, and a chuckle.

"I miss you," Percy complained.

"It's been four days, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth paused, "But gods, I miss you too." She knew she didn't sound needy. It wasn't lust, it was love. It was companionship, and wanting to hold the hand of the only person who had gone to the ends of the world to be with her; who had suffered through hell, literally, alongside her tired, injured body. There was a small silence, where Percy made an odd choking sound on the other end of the line, far away in the vibrant city of Manhattan.

"I screamed for you last night," he mumbled, so quietly it were as if he was trying to not even hear is own words himself, "I dreamed you died. You died, and it was all my fault."

"Oh gods, me too. It's weird- you were burned and you had wings and there were flames, and-" Annabeth muttered back, trying to keep her voice steady, but failing.

"Why didn't you call?"

"I didn't want to be a burden."

"Annabeth. Wise girl," Percy said gently, though his voice was angry almost, not with her, but with this despicable, evil world which had gone down to the dogs, "you will never, ever in this life, and in any other that will follow, be a burden to me! Okay? Never. Never, ever."

Perhaps Annabeth was crying. Perhaps she was just dizzy, or laughing senselessly, but she was just shaking and shaking. Her emotions were meaningless. Bleeding into each other like paint on a canvas. The hand of love ripping away anything, everything, but at the same time giving her all she could desire.

"I can say the same," she whispered into the phone, as if a voice any louder would break her.

"I wish you were here, Wise Girl." Percy said, his voice slightly strengthened.

"It's Christmas tomorrow, Seaweed Brain. I want to spend it with you like every year. At camp. Gods, with you."

"Oh, me too. ''Cause the world is ugly... but you're beautiful to me.'"(A/N: the latter is 'The World is Ugly,' by My Chemical Romance)

Annabeth suddenly began to laugh slightly. "Since when are we this soppy?"

Percy began to chuckle too, the sound more beautiful that any melody of Orpheus's.

"Honestly, I have no idea."

"Percy!" A faint voice called at the other end of the line.

"Ugh. Bye Wise Girl, I've got to go. I love you okay- please call if you need to. Please."

"Goodbye then Seaweed Brain- Love you. Call also."

"Love you." Percy repeated, as though he could not bare to let go of the phone, trying to evade the sense of aloneness that would come over him upon hanging up.

"Love you, too."

There was a beep, and the call ended. Annabeth stared at it for a few moments, gulping, blinking, trying not to overwhelm herself with longing for Manhattan and all she knew and loved there.

Then-

"Seaweed Brain? Wise Girl?"

Annabeth turned, and promptly fell off the sofa, to see her cousin leaning against the doorway, smirking.

"Oh, shut up!" She got up shakily.

"You and Percy are romantic." Magnus stated.

Annabeth flushed. Flushed so hard her face seemed to be alight. "No we're not."

"Oh, you so are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not!"

"Are!"

Annabeth scowled at her cousin. "It's not romance it's... its strange. He knows most about me- I know most about him. And excuse me but if you had... if you had..."

Annabeth fell back onto the sofa, seething. "You don't understand, okay?"

"But you told me."

"Oh gods," Annabeth laughed, and her laughter was slightly crazed and vicious, "you are naive if you think I told you all of it. "

"Did you hear what he said!?" And Magnus still had that irksome smile on his face, unruffled by her proclamation.

Yes, gods, yes she had, heard what Percy had said. It had struck her and resonated through her bones. It had played a tune on her heart-string and meddled with a mind.

"You di-"

"Mind the language."

"Fu-"

"Stop. You have little brothers."

As if on cue, Matthew skidded down into the living room, followed shortly by his brother.

"What's happening?" He asked. Magnus wore a smug expression as he said, "Annabeth and Percy's conversation."

"It's not funny," Annabeth declared, but the same time, Bobby was nodding and agreeing with Magnus. She found herself blushing scarlet, both in rage and embarrassment.

"Wise Girl, Seaweed Brain!?" Magnus exclaimed. Annabeth growled, and took a step towards her cousin, drawing her up to full height. Still, she stood a head shorter, even being as tall as she was.

"I just wanted I hear your voice," Magnus continued in a mocking tone, as Bobby and Matthew howled with laughter, and added their own witty lines of speech she had once Annabeth had once told Percy. "I want not spend Christmas with you." Magnus finished.

Annabeth clenched her fist, and took another step forwards. She was going to punch, she was going to smack, she was going to kick her cousin for his childish mockery. Those jokes he found funny, but she absolutely did not. Annabeth took another furious step towards her cousin.

"And what do you tell your girlfriend then? Oh Sonia, 'yo sueño con solo verte?''

Magnus looked at her blankly, but a spark of an enraged flame ignited in his eyes. "Is that Spanish?"

The pair were so close now, the anger so palpable, and the two ten years olds shot furtive glances between the two teenagers, anticipating the ensuing brawl.

"Maybe if you were smart you'd know that."

"Ha. And I call my girlfriend by her name, by the way."

"No: babe?" Annabeth taunted.

"Maybe sometimes," Magnus ground out. A primitive flicker of a smile danced on Annabeth's lips.

"Honey?"

"Guys," Matthew pleaded, "You are legitimately arguing over what you call your boyfriend or girlfriend. What are you doing? I thought I was meant to be the immature one!"

Annabeth did not break eye contact with her cousin, but still said to her brother, "Only because he's a sadistic fool who takes pleasure in taunting one and their respective lover."

Magnus snorted, "Respective lover? You're certainly very eloquent."

"Proud of it."

"Bi-"

Annabeth put a finger to her lips and smiled, "Ten year old brothers, remember?"

At this moment, Bobby shoved them apart, and pinned them both with a glare.

"What are you doing!?" He exclaimed, "You are arguing over the pettiest thing I have ever seen."

The two teenagers blinked, as if coming out of a trance. Magnus appeared to gather himself up, and shrugged with a sheepish grin at Annabeth. He held out a hand, and Annabeth shook it.

"Sorry, Annabeth."

"Alright, Thor."

"Freya."

A half hour later, the four children sat around the table, debating who would prepare the fish fingers and salad: Annabeth or Magnus.

"You," Magnus was saying, pointing a finger at the child of Athena, "Because you spent the whole morning lying on the sofa talking to your boyfriend."

"Whole morning?" Annabeth scoffed, "You, because I was the one who got us out of hiking."

"But-"

"You, because you're a year younger."

"You, because you're a year older."

"I didn't sleep last night!"

"Well touché! Neither did I!"

Annabeth and Magnus looked at each other helplessly, then Magnus spread his arm. "Why can't Bobby or Matthew do it?" He asked, "They only have to put some fish fingers in the microwave, wash some lettuce and chop some lettuce."

"But you guys are the so-called responsible ones!" Matthew argued, "Even if you get into the most stupid fights."

All heads turned first to Matthew, then to Bobby, who had so far remained silent for the entirety of this debate. The boy looked up from his magazine and looked suddenly alarmed. "Well don't look at me!"

"Just go Magnus, come on, please?" Cue big-grey-eyes.

"Those eyes may work very well on Percy, but I'm not going to be wrapped around your little finger like that."

"Oy!" Annabeth punched Magnus's arm, though with little force. "Well I'm going to sit here and bend gender roles," she said. Magnus rolled his eyes.

"You must be good in debate societies."

"Thank you very much- now shoo."

"Well only if you wash up."

"What? Oh, fine. Whatever."

Annabeth smirked as Magnus rose from the table, and stumbled over to the kitchenette, humming to himself.

Presently, Magnus strode out to he table, carrying in his arm a plate of fish fingers. Annabeth studied him carefully.

"Have you been crying?"

"Onion is very distressing to cut."

From upstairs, came the sound of something clattering to the floor, and a cry. Annabeth leapt out of her seat, book abandoned.

"Matthew!?" She yelled.

"I'm fine!" came back the voice, "Just fell down the stairs."

"Gods, are you okay?"

In answer, Matthew appeared in the doorframe, rubbing his rump and smiling sheepishly. "Dinner looks nice," he said. Magnus bowed his head in acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he said, "And you're sister here will do you the decency of washing up."

"Yeah," Annabeth said, "so to minimise what I have to I clean, you're going to eat the salad and the fingers in the same plate."

Matthew just nodded, and slid into a seat, just as his brother followed, 'The Half-Blood Prince,' in his grasp. He resumed his reading as soon as he sat down and bit into his meal. Annabeth sighed.

"I'd reprimand you for reading at the table," she told her younger brother, "But I really can't fault you, so read right on."

Over the top of his book, Bobby grinned at her. Deciding to also indulge in also being allowed to be unsociable at the dinner table without her parents breathing down her neck, Annabeth pulled out her phone.

"So guys," Magnus said in that futile attempt to make conversation, "Christmas tomorrow!"

"We still need to decorate the tree and wrap presents," Annabeth said, "we took our time, gods."

"We'll do that after lunch." Magnus replied, tearing into a mouthful of lettuce.

"Alright."

And for the rest of the meal, not a single word was uttered, each child trying to absorb the relaxing silence one could not gain with nagging adults.

"Come on, Annabeth!"

Matthew was leaning against the doorframe, tinsel a crown on coal black hair. He was waiting anxiously for his sister to finish washing up, so that they could begin the eventful task of decorating the tree they had bought yesterday. Perhaps it had not been the best of ideas to buy a team tree, seeing as it shed pine needles everywhere, but such a fact could not be changed now.

"Just one more plate, Bobby," Annabeth assured her brother. She scrubbed furiously at the crockery, then held it up to inspect it. "There, all done."

"Good, can you come, now?"

"Yep, alright."

The tree stood proud in the corner of the room, and a mixed assortment of baubles and tinsel littered the floor.

"Right, I'm here now," Annabeth declared. Matthew grinned, and plucked a bauble from the floor.

"So can we start now?" He asked anxiously. Annabeth waved a hand. "Yes, go ahead."

Matthew cheered, and, with the air of authority and importance, as if it were the first blood in battle, hooked the bauble in his small hand onto the tree. Bobby laughed in delight, and followed without hesitation. Then Magnus came. He didn't have a particularly good sense of order - but then again, neither did ADHD Annabeth - and his decorations were rather slapdash, the way that they were put on, so that one side of thee tree would seem painfully unbalanced, and have to be rapidly filled up by Matthew or Bobby. Soon, though, the children got a little bit distracted. A laughing Magnus wrapped tinsel around his neck and pretended it was a garland whilst hula dancing. Annabeth hit him over the head with a roll of wrapping paper, but tripped over a box of decoration, and went careening into the tree, which would have fallen over if not for Bobby on he other side. They paraded around with joyous cries, and finally, finally, when Annabeth bent down, and Matthew sat on her shoulders to pin the star to the top of the tree, Matthew leaned to far forwards and fell, taking with him a whole side of decorations on the tree. But rather than reprimand him and tell him off, the children just laughed, and crouched to pick the fallen baubles, and laughed and laughed and laughed.


	46. Chapter 46

"Argh!"

Annabeth let out a ragged gasp. She bolted upright, the shadows of the dark room leering at her, the sounds of the night beyond like the roar of he deadliest monster. Oh, gods. No, no. Annabeth tried to fight it, tried, tried, but before her helpless eyes, her nightmare crashed to the ground around her like a cascade of heavy bricks. Images flashed before her eyes. No. An exploded dragon: No. A hoard of monsters pushing towards two elevators, the god, Tartarus: No. a falling, dying boy with sea green eyes and cursed, malevolent Arai: No, no, no. The pictures, the drawings, the recollections and her nightmares wove a tapestry of hatred and regret and fear before her eyes. Annabeth tried to shrink away, but the firm hands of one of her dreams pushed her forwards again.

"Percy," she whispered, wanting to be with that person, that sole person, who understood and shared her burden. She was shaking. Her hands reached out to find those cool, rough, calloused fingers of a lover and a best friend, but closed on empty air. She shrank away, snatching back like she had been burnt. Tears pricked, then scalded the backs of her eyes. She refused to cry with others- she would not. A choked sound left Annabeth's her throat. A knife that tore at her jugular, digging it away. She was hyperventilating, breathing laborious, the lack of oxygen making her dizzy. She was alone and afraid and furious.

"Annabeth?"

The voice pierced the veil (A/N: I swear I didn't do that on purpose) of misery and hatred Annabeth had put around herself. It couldn't be? But... it was? She took a deep breath, and sat up slightly, glancing furtively around herself for the voice that familiar, endearing voice that had just a spoken.

"Annabeth? Wise Girl?"

"What the-?"

"Up here."

Annabeth looked up and jumped, startled. Hanging like a halo above her was an Iris Message, and an amused looking Percy Jackson peered out from behind its screen. She squinted up at him, and stifled a laugh.

"Hello," She purred, "Nice of you to show your face."

Percy poked his tongue out at her. Then his expression turned suddenly serious and concerned, "Are you okay?" He asked. Annabeth found herself sitting up straighter, lifting her chin up in the air; prideful, dignified. "Fine," she said. Percy's expression softened like melted butter.

"I'm not," he murmured. Something like a bullet ricocheted through Annabeth's bones. She wanted to reach out and plant a kiss to those soft lips, to squeeze that hand and tell him all would be alright. But she could not, and it wasn't fair.

"What happened?" She whispered, and Percy's expression suddenly hardened.

"You know. The usual shit about fatal flaws and death of my loved ones. And yeah, Tartarus. Lovely little dreams." His tone was bitter, acrid. Annabeth glanced up to see his eyes had the glistening sheen of tears he was fighting. She smiled wanly at him, a smile to tell him she understood and would always be here.

"It's alright Seaweed Brain- the war's over'' Annabeth told him, "The physical wounds it left have just healed quicker than our mental ones. But they'll heal, you'll see, the scars in our mind. I promise. They just need time. Just time, that's all."

Percy's smile was wry, but grateful. "Spoken like a true daughter of Athena."

Magnus stirred on the mattress besides Annabeth's, and the girl jumped, suddenly aware as to where she was, and who was around her. She turned back to her boyfriend, painfully aware of how loud her each and every movement was.

"I've got to talk to you somewhere else," she breathed. "My brothers and cousin are here, and apparently have a love of teasing me about you."

Percy snorted on the other end of the line. "And why is that?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Annabeth answered, then added, "Right, I'm going to to the kitchen,"

"Right behind you," Percy laughed.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, and picked her way up off the floor. She leapt nimbly over her sleeping cousin, and out onto the landing beyond. Percy's Iris Message tagged along behind her, which was fairly surreal and very laughable.

"Nice house," Percy observed as they made their way down the stairs to the foyer.

"Yeah," Annabeth agreed, "But I still have to share a room with Bobby, Matthew and Magnus; Dad and Helen have to sleep in the living room; Henry and Natalie get the other bedroom."

As Annabeth skipped the last two steps, and tip toed into the living room, past her sleeping parents, Percy made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. Annabeth slunk quietly into the dining room, and slowly shut the door behind her. Then she smiled tiredly at Percy, and slipped into one of the dining chairs.

"Thanks for the gilded tour," Percy said stilly.

"Any time. Right, now I can talk properly."

"Good. Because I wanted to say: Merry Christmas!"

"Oh gods, yes it's Christmas! Merry Christmas, Seaweed Brain!"

Percy grinned broadly, and rested his cheek on his hand, staring fondly at her. Annabeth couldn't help but snort.

"Stop looking at me like that - why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, humoured.

"Because you're beautiful."

Something stirred deep inside Annabeth, and she was thankful that in this dim light, the gleam in her eyes was not visible.

"I'm not looking very beautiful now, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth leaned forwards until her nose practically touched the foggy surface of the Iris Message, the closest she and Percy could be in these circumstances, "Not unless you find bed-head and bags under one's eyes attractive. Because that isn't very conventional."

"I still think you're gorgeous. You'll look beautiful to me no matter wether you've an awful case of bed-head and bags, or wether you're wearing the finest dress in the world. It doesn't matter wether it's conventional or not."

Annabeth glanced down at her hands, which were carefully folded in her lap. She may have been blushing. "Are you okay, Seaweed Brain? Did you bang your head too hard? Are you thinking straight?"

Percy's laugh was muffled beneath his hand. "I'm fine."

"Well in that case, let me say that that rat's nest on your head is very flattering."

"I'm not sure wether you're being sarcastic or are actually genuinely complimenting me."

Annabeth shrugged, because to be honest, she wasn't sure either.

"Annabeth? Why are you here?"

Annabeth jumped, and tore her sleepy eyes away from Percy, with whom she had been talking moments before.

"Helen?"

"Yeah."

Helen strode into the centre of the dining room, and pinned her eyes in the Iris Message. Her brow creased.

"Oh, so that's what you were doing - hey Percy! How long have you been down here, talking to him, Annabeth?" But Helen's voice was in no way condescending, only amiable and friendly.

Annabeth glanced helplessly at Percy, who reached over for what Annabeth knew was the clock by his bed.

"Damn, five hours. I didn't realise. Merry Christmas, though, Helen."

Helen smiled wanly, and took a seat besides her step-daughter, two mugs of coffee in her hand. She slid one along to Annabeth.

"Merry Christmas, Percy."

"Thanks-"

"Percy!" Called a dim voice on Percy's side, "Who are you talking to? It's breakfast!"

"Coming, mom." There was the sound of footsteps and a door opening, and presently, a smiling Sally Jackson stepped into Percy's room.

"It's ten, Perce, Paul wants to take you to Central Park, they're having a Christmas fair. Says the fresh air will do you good and-' Sally looked up to see Annabeth and Helen on the other side of the message, and a happy, maternal smile spread over her face, "Annabeth! Helen! Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Sally!" Annabeth replied joyously, "doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm doing great, thank you for asking. Actually, it's great you're here, because I need to talk to Helen about Montauk."

"Oh, yes that," Helen said, "Because I'm a little confused as to what is happening."

"Right, so I think you'll - Annabeth - have a day after you return from your family holiday, before we drive up to Montauk, because we're leaving on the twenty-eighth."

"For how long is this holiday going to be," Helen asked.

"Four days, if that's alright with you. Percy wants to go to camp for a few days, too," Sally affirmed. Her smile was the kindest Annabeth had ever seen. Helen waved her hand.

"That's fine. We'll be free of her for a few days."

"That's nice of you to say," Annabeth laughed. Percy chuckled on the other end of the line, and winked at Annabeth.

"Acting up at home, Wise Girl?"

Childishly, Annabeth poked her tongue out at him, but Helen nodded.

"Thanks, Helen," Annabeth muttered. There was the sudden sound of tinkling laughter upstairs, a clatter, and the pattering of quick feet.

"Well, we've got to go now," Helen said, "Merry Christmas."

"I'll text you the details," Sally said, "Annabeth'll give you my number- Merry Christmas."

Annabeth nodded, waved, and cut through the connection just in time, as Magnus, Bobby and Matthew skidded into the kitchen.

"It's Christmas!" Yelled Matthew jubilantly, whilst Magnus just yawned, and trudged over to the coffee machine without hesitation. Bobby hugged Helen hard, and presently, Natalie, Henry and Frederick walked in too, so that the kitchen was alive with noise as someone tried to make pancakes and another laughed and poured juice besides them, and people exchanged merriments, and Annabeth took his as the opportunity to slink away from the noise into the living room.

She was faintly aware of a figure following her as Annabeth wove around the mattress and settled down on the sofa before the tree.

"Merry Christmas," she said, to whoever had tailed her here.

"Merry Christmas, Annabeth," Magnus replied, sitting down besides her on the couch. "Where did you go last night. Who were you talking to? I heard you cry out, then you began to make conversation, and then you disappeared. I think, I was half asleep." Mentally, Annabeth cursed herself.

"Who do you think I was talking to? Why do you think I was talking to him? That's an inane question."

Magnus shrugged. "Percy? Nightmares?"

Annabeth sighed deeply, and leaned back against the backrest, her eyes closed. She opened her mouth to say something, but Magnus cut through her words like a knife.

"Sometimes," he said, "When I am sad, I close my eyes and I imagine myself in my 'Happy Place.'"

Annabeth frowned, and her eyelids flickered open. "What do you mean?"

"'Happy place,' is a mental trick often taught to people with anxiety or depression," Magnus explained, "Its simple. You have to picture your perfect place. Maybe it's real, maybe it isn't. Imagine who's there. Are you alone? Perhaps Percy is there with you'- no contempt this time - 'But the trick is that anytime you slide into these negative emotions, you imagine yourself there. And it helps."

Annabeth smiled, and turned her head to her cousin. "And what is your happy place?"

"Mine is London - I went there once with my mother. I am on the lions in Trafalgar Square, and Sonia and my best friends Hearthstone and Blitz and Samirah are with me too. We are laughing and joking. Just banter. It gets my spirits up."

"Thor, that's adorable."

"So what's yours then?"

"I'm not sure. I guess at Camp- the one I go to every summer. I'm..." Annabeth though for a moment, "I'm with Percy and Grover, and all my friends. And Leo is there as well. And I guess I'm, if you don't laugh, I'm curled up against Percy, the crackling of the fire making me tired and content, or I'm making S'mores. Maybe. Or it's the sing-a-longs. But I'm with my closest friends anyhow, and we're safe and happy, and that's the most important part, isn't it?"

"That's a good start, 'Freya.'"

"Well, Thor. It's Christmas, let's talk about something that will get our morale a little higher than this."

"Come on, Annabeth. Let's get breakfast."

It took all of five minutes, for the family to be once more all sitting in the couch around the tree.

"Can we open our presents now?" Bobby pleaded.

"Okay," Helen said, "But we'll go in order: you, then your brother, then Magnus, then your sister, the us adults. Then we come back to you and so and so forth, okay? Don't open everything in one go."

"Fine," Bobby accepted. He grinned as he dug out the nearest present to him, one from Henry, Natalie and Magnus, and began to unwrap it. He beamed when he pulled out a brand new video game, and hugged each of those who had gifted it to him with fervor. Next came Matthew, who pulled out a remote-control car from Frederick, followed by Magnus, who received a very nice pair of jeans and a pair of Nike trainers. Annabeth was delighted with the books given to her by her step-mother, and watched as the circle continued. It was noticeable that though everyone was awkward at first, chafing under being the only one unwrapping a present and being pressurised on acting accordingly, after two rounds, where Annabeth had already acquired three books and a beautiful T-Shirt, the circle lapsed back into a more comfortable feeling. So that by the time the third round rolled around, each ripped away the wrapping paper shamelessly and hugged each other with no hesitation.

The third present Annabeth got was from her father. The wrapping paper was green, embossed with 'Season's Greetings,' on it, poorly wrapped around a rather, square box. Annabeth peeled the paper back carefully, to reveal a small black box. She gently prised open the lid to reveal a note.

''Dear Annabeth," Annabeth read aloud, "This is for you to wish you a very merry Christmas, and in the hope that it will remind you of good, and guide you as you begin the wonderful journey into adulthood, you will commence so soon -Oh gods, dad, you're going to make me cry already!"

Frederick laughed, and motioned for her to continue. "And among these little objects, of which at first you may find mundane and irrelevant, I hope you find meaning and a sort of talisman. It is my hope that you open this box and find a purpose within these items, so that they serve as a reminder that life, for all its horrors and torments, can be sweet and full of love and light if you are wise enough to find it. Wishing you a very merry Christmas, love, your father."

Annabeth turned to look up at her father, conflicted between laughing or crying or hugging her father, or all at once. "Dad, it's Christmas," she said, "this is very profound." Frederick smiled wryly, as Annabeth took the note to reveal what was inside. The contents made her smile. The objects were such she had never seen before in the possession of her father, but she understood immediately what her father had meant by these. There was a pair of pearl earrings in there, and Annabeth supposed that was representing that not matter how rare, good fortune almost always came about. There was a ring, too, perhaps for a circle that never came to a close. A small magnet with doves, perhaps love. Then there was two pillar holding up the sky, and that had been a rash attempt of her father's, but kind, showing that she could do anything and would be supported, always. Then there was another item, a signet ring, used to stamp down seals. And that could have multiple meanings: that she could leave her mark anywhere, perhaps; that the seal could mark her as an individual; that being so old, it showed that anything could last for generations on end. Annabeth was about to close the box and hug her father close, when she heard a jingle. And there, hidden beneath a pearl and two rings, was a piece of paper. Annabeth lifted it, and began to laugh.

"Aw dad. That's adorable," it was a little strip of photos of her, Percy and Grover, like the ones you could get at the mall. "Do I want to know how you found this?"

Frederick smiled, "I was cleaning your room once when you were away and found this behind desk," he shrugged, "It was cute, and I figured you'd want it."

A flash of silver beneath the doves caught Annabeth's eye, and she turned the magnet over curiously. There, piled in the corner of the box, was a pile of drachmas, with a little note in her father's messy scrawl reading, 'Just in case!' And a little smiley face besides it.

"Oh gods, dad. This is beautiful, albeit a little dramatic, but..." Annabeth's smile was wide it touched her ears. She wrapped her father up in a tight embrace. Because he had been right, these objects were talismans she could carry with her through life. They were beautiful yes, but also things that she could find meaning in, and see just how far, how deep life ran.

The... sermon, if one could be permitted the liberty of calling it as such, of delivering and unwrapping presents continued for around another hour, and little fuss was made. To add to her beautiful pile of gifts, Annabeth received two more books, a woolen jumper and nice, new pair of combat boots. She hugged each person it turn, glad for how good this year's haul had been. Of course, there was no presents from any of friends back at home, they had said they would celebrate Christmas at camp all together, and so eventually, the family found themselves sitting in a satisfied silence, with nothing else left to unwrap. Eventually, Frederick spoke out, "I'm going to bin all this paper- someone help?"

Magnus lifted himself to his feet. "I will."

Bobby and Matthew then ran off to to play with their new toys, and Annabeth decided to follow, and put all her gifts in her suitcase.

"Mince pies?" Natalie announced, as Annabeth was halfway up the stairs.

"Annabeth? Do you want a pie?'

"Yeah. Sure!" Annabeth called back. She turned and descended again, to where the adults were already downing spiced wine, apparently unaware that it was barely twelve. Natalie held the tray out to her, and Annabeth smiled as she took a pie and a glass of lemonade.

"I'm going to put my stuff away, upstairs." She said to no one in particular. Her father nodded, and with the consent, Annabeth once again turned towards the stairs. She climbed them feeling elated and happy. On the landing, Bobby and Matthew were playing with a new remote control car, and they waved at her as Annabeth passed and pushed open the door to their bedroom. Magnus also passed behind her to his parent's room, singing, 'God bless ye merry Hippogriffs.'

"Are you quoting Sirius Black?" Annabeth paused, to only ask that.

"Yep," Magnus said, and ducked through the door. Annabeth chuckled, and slipped into her - their - own room. She took her suitcase out from under the bed and peered into its depths. It was still half full, as the drawer had been so small she had barely had enough room for any thing more than her underwear, and two T-Shirts. Annabeth began to hum, herself, as she gently scavenged for a good place to stow her new possessions. Here was a good place for her father's gift. The books could go here. The jumper here and-" something hard and pointy grazed Annabeth's hand. Or rather Annabeth's hand had grazed it. She frowned. Annabeth hadn't remembered packing anything of the like. She creased her brow, and dug in her case for whatever she had touched. When she came across it again, Annabeth pulled it out carefully. It was a present. Rectangular and a good few inches tall, with one side of it plusher than the other. Huh? Annabeth flipped it over, checking for any indication as to whom it may be from. And there, there was a card. It was handmade, made of card with 'Merry Christmas,' written in large letters, and doodles of curves and lines and stars decorating the outside. Confused, Annabeth flipped it open, but as soon as she saw whom it was addressed to, she felt herself melt inside. Because there, with sloppy spelling and lopsided handwriting, was the message Annabeth, now realised, she had coveted most of all.

'Dear, Wise Girl,' it began, 'I hope you find this in time. I put it in your suitcase when I was over at your house. I want to tell you Merry Christmas, and though I'm sure you already know, and there is no need to tell you again, I love you. And I am hoping that your Christmas Day, well, every day, but this one in particular, is filled with joy and happiness. I know I will miss you those five painful days you will be away- that vacation you are on now, I suppose - and it is strange, that until that residential we went a month, two, three without seeing each other. Because I was boarding at school then, or studying, and you were at school dealing with bullies, I guess, and laborious hours of homework - even if, don't get me wrong, every day, through every nightmare and every waking breath I yearned for you, and now that feeling has gotten even stronger. Even if you think me a hopeless romantic. You're probably laughing at me now, and believe it or not, I hope you are. That's normal us isn't it? I love that. That you laugh so hard, and it's a... mellifluous... sound. Ha! Look at me, as sappy as the Aphrodite cabin, and using big words like yourself. Perhaps I'm getting off task? I always do- sorry, blame the ADHD. You know that anyway. As I was saying, I hope your Christmas is amazing, and I love you with all my aching heart,

Hope you like the present,

Much love,

Your Seaweed Brain

P.S. how is the spelling?'

And Annabeth was laughing. And crying. And holding the precious card to her chest as if it were a lifeline. Tentatively, she put the card down, tucking it into one of her new books to keep it from crumpling, and began to unwrap the present. And wow, gods. The first thing Annabeth saw was a book on modern architecture, one she had always wanted but never had enough money. The next was also a book, a fictional text this time, and that particular one she had stood in front of for hours last time she had dragged Percy into Barnes & Noble, bemoaning that she had not had enough money to buy it. Lastly, was a pair of stretchy, comfortable jeans, which were useful seeing as Annabeth was constantly grumbling that her jeans were as stiff as cardboard. With a grin plastered to her face, Annabeth pulled out her phone and began to text Percy and million words of gratitude.


	47. Chapter 47

The last day of the trip flew by with the wings of a falcon, and before Annabeth knew it, it was the morning of their departure, and from downstairs, her father was calling for the kids to get up and finish packing. Annabeth's eyes fluttered open, from where she had been lying the past few hours, trying in vain to fall back asleep following those turbulent dreams of panic and fear. The blinds were half open, and shafts of early morning light that formed little puddles on the ground, flooded the bedroom.

"I don't want to leave," Bobby moaned from the bunk bed.

"Me neither," Replied Magnus's voice, and Matthew nodded in earnest. Annabeth, however said nothing. In all honesty, she was not bothered - glad, if anything - that they were leaving. It meant she could return to New York: to her friends and her camp and to fall back into the comforting embrace of day-to-day routine. And of course, she would depart to Montauk that one day after her return. The prospect made Annabeth smile.

Besides her, Magnus yawned widely, and pushed away his quilts. He rose shakily, plainly dizzy from getting up too quickly, and tottered over to the chest of drawers. They opened with a creak that reverberated through the entirety of the room.

"Okay," Magnus said sleepily, "There's still a bunch of stuff we haven't packed away in here." He rummaged through the drawer, and pulled out a bundle of clothes. His fingers hooked onto a pair of Matthew's boxer shorts, and with a startled yelp, Magnus jumped, and dropped the garments in his hand.

"Ew, god!" He exclaimed, peering into the drawer, "You've left your underwear in here, guys. That wasn't how I wanted to start my morning."

From her state of quiescence on her mattress, Annabeth laughed.

"Can you take the drawer out and bring it here, please?" She asked, "Because I really can't be bothered to get up."

"Are you kidding? No way!"

"Ugh. I don't want to get up. It's warm in here."

There was the sudden sound of footfalls on the stairs, and in a matter of moments, the door was flung open to reveal Helen.

"Alright kids," she said, "Time to get up, well done Magnus. Bobby, Matthew, Annabeth, come on!"

Annabeth pulled a face, and rolled over. Like a snare, the blanket wrapped around her, so that even the quilts were telling Annabeth not to get up and face the daunting prospect of the coming day.

Helen strode over to the pile of clothes Magnus had dropped, and sorted through them. She threw it each item to its respective owner, and presently there was an arc of shorts, shirts and underwear flying over to each person. At one point, Helen held out a white brassiere from the heap, and showed it to Bobby.

"Bobby, is this yours?" She joked Bobby grinned, but shook his head.

Magnus laughed appreciatively on the other side of the room.

"I think it's this girl here's" he nudged his cousin with his foot. Annabeth scowled, and turned to face her step-mother. "Is it possible to go a day without someone embarrassing me? I'm not even out of bed yet!

Helen chuckled, and threw the item in her hand to her step-daughter, who caught it with ease, even lying down, and chucked it into the suitcase at her side. A final shirt came towards Annabeth, and with a sweep of the room with teasing, dark eyes, Helen smiled, told them to dress quickly and come downstairs in two minutes, before departing swiftly back through the door and down the stairs below.

Annabeth sighed at her reflection. The boys had kicked her out to change in the cramped bathroom, and so Annabeth found she did not have very much room to dress as she wriggled into a long, grey top and pair of leggings. Annabeth grunted as her elbows hit the walls on either side of her when she pulled on her shirt, and yelped when she almost fell prostrate to the ground attempting to put on her leggings. The latter would have been especially unfortunate, given her surroundings being a bathroom.

Then, reminded of Helen's 'two minutes or no breakfast,' Annabeth snatched up her bottle of concealer and darted out of the room, deciding to apply it on the long and tedious train journey that awaited her.

"Just in time," Helen said as Annabeth skidded into the dining room. Annabeth sauntered over to the table, and snatched up a slice of toast from its rack. Finding no response to her step-mother's words, she shrugged, and took a bite of toast. It was blackened, burnt and acrid in her mouth. Annabeth grimaced and put it back down down on the counter top, wiping the crumbs from her mouth. At that moment, Fredrick looked up sharply.

"Don't put your toast there!" He exclaimed, "I spent the last half hour cleaning that."

"Oh. Sorry." Annabeth picked up the food, and was about to throw it in the trash when again, her father cut through her words.

"I just emptied that out too!"

Annabeth sighed. "So where can I put it?"

"Eat it."

"But it's burnt."

"Well we're not buying anything from the train, so it's that or no breakfast."

"Oh, alright." She nibbled tentatively at the crust, and pulled a face. "Ew."

"You're not five anymore. I'm not going to herd you about until you finish that, but there isn't anything else for you to eat."

Then Magnus strode into the room, suitcase in tow, and grinned. "What's for breakfast?" He asked. Annabeth rolled her eyes and said,

"Black toast."

"What? Oh, right." Magnus scrutinised the toast, but shrugged, seeming to have decided that hunger ruled over decent taste. He plucked one from the rack and took a large bite. His face revealed nothing about what he thought of the toast as he devoured his breakfast, but he didn't take a second help, which Annabeth supposed was enough to say it was awful. Magnus always took second helpings.

It was barely more than fifteen minutes, before the entire family was brushing crumbs off their fronts, awaiting Mr Fitzgerald, who was due to take them to the train station in five minutes. They stood outside, on the porch, the wind chilly, biting the tops of their ears like little daggers; nibbling at their noses until they were bright red.

"Good trip, kids?" Henry asked, hitching his rucksack further up his back. Bobby grinned.

"It was great!"

"So what d'you think you're going to do now, at home? Just relax?"

"Yeah. Probably stay at home most of the time. Annabeth's going away for a few days, which means I can use her computer."

Annabeth choked on thin air, looking up from her book. "That absolutely does not mean you can use my laptop!"

Henry laughed, whilst Bobby poked his tongue out at his sister.

"So where you going, Annabeth?" Henry asked. Annabeth fiddled with the name tag on her suitcase, and shrugged.

"Montauk. Then camp for a few days."

"Camp? In winter?"

Annabeth laughed quietly, "Strange concept, I know."

"So with whom are you going to Montauk? Friends?"

Annabeth found a discarded drachma in her pocket. She began to absentmindedly toss it up, and catch it, her other hand tapping against her leg.

"Yeah. Sally and Paul- Percy's parents - are taking us: Percy and I."

"That sounds fun."

"Annabeth, would you keep still?" Frederick cut in. Annabeth sighed deeply.

"I can try."

She gave the coin one last flip, when Natalie spoke up.

"Can I see that coin?"

"Um. Yeah, sure."

Trying hard to hide her reluctance, Annabeth passed the drachma in her hand to her aunt, who took it and frowned. Carefully, Natalie turned the coin over in her palm, studying the inscription on it.

"Who is this on the coin?" She asked, "What does the inscription say?" Most likely, Natalie had only voiced her thoughts aloud, not expecting Annabeth to know, because she looked surprised when Annabeth signalled to the coin, and said, "That figure is Athena, the patron goddess of Athens. She won the city in a competition with Poseidon, by gifting its people an olive tree," In her peripheral vision, Annabeth saw her father tilt his head towards her, "The inscription, AOE, is an acronym for Alethia Orno Eteronis, which translates to 'Truth, honour, Forever'. Though on other coins you can see the Athenian owl too, and, on another one I had, the markings 'Of the Athenians,' as in 'the people of Athens'."

Natalie looked a little shocked, and perhaps awed. "How do you know that? You're like a walking textbook."

Annabeth shrugged, laughing slightly, and said coolly. "Acquired the knowledge over the years."

"And where did you get this coin from- it looks so real."

"Just a little holiday souvenir."

Natalie opened her mouth, as if to say something more, but just there was the beep of a horn, and Mr Fitzgerald was leaning out of his red Nissan, a broad smile on his face.

Annabeth heaved her suitcase into the boot, and then slid into the backseat of the car. Seeing as Helen was in shotgun, that left an entire seven people in the back, and Bobby and Matthew complained thoroughly at the injustices of having to sit on the adult's laps.

"That's not fair," Matthew was whining, "Magnus or Annabeth don't have to sit on anyone's lap."

"That's because," Frederick groaned as he shifted his son's weight on his legs, "They are, firstly, older, secondly, tall enough to hit the ceiling if they were to sit on one of our legs, and thirdly, too heavy."

"Besides," Magnus said, "We're the poor souls who will have you falling on top of us when we round a sharp corner."

Annabeth snorted, and settled herself against the window, trying not to think too hard about what a bad situation this was for an AHDH child.

"Good time?" Mr Fitzgerald questioned, as he turned the key and the engine began to roar. Fredrick nodded in earnest.

"Great time, it's a lovely place. Beautiful house."

"Well, I'm pleased you enjoyed it. The kids weren't too bored, were they?"

"No, we were good, thank you," Magnus interjected, though politely. "And what about you sir," Magnus asked, "had a nice Christmas?"

"It was wonderful, thank you young man. 'Spent it with my wife and the kids, I did. Went to the church service too, did you?"

"No," Frederick said, "Was it good?"

"It was beautiful, the choir sang like angels."

Annabeth yawned suddenly, a lack of sleep taking its toll. In shotgun, Helen's eyes darted towards her, and the elder woman smiled with sympathy.

"You can sleep when we get home," she mouthed, but Annabeth shook her head, and leaned over to her step-mother.

"I can't. You know I can't." She whispered back.

"Well, anyhow, you can relax."

Annabeth said nothing, and slumped back against her chair.

"Right kids, we're here. Get out and- careful, Bobby! Ow, God!" Frederick was saying. Bobby looked apologetic as he clambered over his father, and through the door, out into the parking lot. Legs asleep and squashed, Annabeth gingerly followed, grateful for the cool morning air that caressed her cheeks.

"How much do I owe you for the ride?" Frederick asked Mr Fitzgerald, leafing through his wallet. The driver waved a hand dismissively,

"Nothing, its fine," he paused, and the laughed, "If I wanted you're money I'd have become a cabbie."

"Are you sure?" Frederick persisted.

"Honestly, its fine."

"But-"

"No. Put your wallet away."

Mr Chase sighed, but relented and tucked away his wallet anyway. He thanked Mr Fitzgerald, and followed his family out of the car, his backpack resting on his shoulders.

"Happy new year!" He called over his shoulder.

"You too! Have a safe journey."

And the Chase family watched as the red Nissan started, and wound away, lost in the maze of back roads and picturesque villages.

The train came around the bend, its headlights like a demon's eyes against the mist of the morning. It churned ravenously, its wheels propelling it ever forwards towards its helpless prey. Annabeth's breath was cut off as it came closer, closer, closer, rumbling like thunder. It had begun to rain now, and droplets slashed at Annabeth's flesh like an axe or... or a poisoned knife. It kissed her face but at same time slapped her so hard it racked her entire body. Before Annabeth, the locomotive pulled up, the wheels against the rails screeching in agony. And then the doors opened with a hiss, and a burst of warmth from the inside of the carriage spread over Annabeth. Allowing those on the train off first, she mounted the steps and aboard. Being so early in the morning, there were plenty of seats free, and Annabeth took the first one available. Ignoring her brother's protests, she curled up against the window, pulling her jacket tight around herself to contain the warmth. She watched the window, transfixed and fascinated, as the drops seemed to race down the glass panel. As the clouds above shone, their silver lining beautiful and surreal and promising, the winter sun trying to fight its way through their tightly knitted wall. As the trees, hemming the sides of the rail, leaned into each other with the wind, and whispered and embraced with the passion of a lover.

At Annabeth's side, the familiar figure of Frederick Chase sat down heavily, and rubbed his hands to create friction. On the two opposing seats sat Bobby and Magnus. Matthew - who had wanted the window - and the rest of the adults were strewn across the seats across the aisle.

"Sad to be leaving?" Frederick asked his daughter. Annabeth shrugged, her gaze still fixed on the window. Beneath her, the train gave a shuddering breath, and began to crawl along the track, out of the station.

"I guess," she said. Gods, the scenery was beautiful. A dramatic, black mountain of a cloud hung overhead, robing the lands in glorious, embellished shadows. "I miss my friends though. Camp."

"Percy?"

"Mm," Annabeth tried to shut her father out. Not that she wanted to be rude, but that she was simply too tired to make conversation. All she really wanted to do was to drown in her thoughts. To drown and stare out of the window. And stare. And stare. And stare. Not make pointless small talk with her Frederick. Because did she miss Percy? Yes. Yes, she did. She missed the laugh he could coax out of her in any situation. Missed the annoying, yet endearing jokes he uttered without relent. Missed then, his lips against her's and the calloused hands threaded through her own fingers.

"Come on, Annabeth," Frederick chided, "Don't be so cold."

"I'm just too tired."

Fredrick clicked his tongue. "Well so long as you don't behave like that at tomorrow's dinner party."

Annabeth's head whipped up, surprise across her face. "Dinner party? What dinner party?"

Frederick looked a little taken off guard. "Didn't you know?" he said, "I invited some colleagues and their families over for a dinner party."

"Tomorrow!? But I have to pack tomorrow!"

"You already have a full suitcase."

"I still need to wash things."

"Wash it in Montauk."

Annabeth shrugged in acquiescence, and returned back to her window.

A little while later, after a comfortable silence where each person went about their own means of entertainment, Frederick spoke up again.

"Hey guys, who wants a riddle?"

The family looked up from whatever they were doing, and there was a jumble of nodded heads, and 'okays.'

"My boss told me this, its from a film called 'The Labyrinth," Annabeth stiffened, but her father did not notice, "Let's see if I remember this," he said. "Okay. Imagine you are searching for the king's castle-"

"-which king?" Bobby asked.

"It doesn't matter, it's not important. Anyway, you are searching, and presently, you come across two doors. One of these doors leads to the castle, however, the other leads to certain death-"

"- how do you know that?" Matthew pressed.

"I just do."

Annabeth straightened slightly as her father continued, listening intently, "Each door is guarded by a sentry. One guard always tells the truth, and the other always lies- the only problem is that you do not know which tells the truth and which lies. You have one question which you can ask either one of the guards, whichever one you wish, to know for sure which door to take that will lead you to the castle."

"And the sentries just let you through?" Magnus asked.

"Jeez, kids. So picky. Yes, they just let you through. Just think about the answer."

An immediate silence ensued, as each person attempted to think of a rational answer. Annabeth frowned, tapping a finger on her leg. That question... No. Perhaps, that one, but... no. Then-

"Gods, that's so easy," she said. Her father turned, and grinned.

"All right, go on Annabeth." She had the whole family's attention now, and she tried to not chafe beneath it.

"It's simple. Okay, you can ask either guard. So say you stand on front of the guard on the left. Let's say he lies. You say to him, 'Would your companion - the one who for this purpose tells the truth - say that this door - the door guarded by the one you are addressing - lead to the castle? Answer yes or no.'" Frederick's smile broadened, "And he says 'yes.'" Annabeth continued, "So that means that the other door- not the one you are before - leads to the castle."

Frederick clapped a hand to her on arm, whilst the family stared surprise. "And how did you work that out?" Frederick asked, beaming.

"Because if the one you are talking to lies, then that means he is lying when he says his companion would say yes, so the other one would actually - the one who tells the truth - would in reality say no, it doesn't. And he tells the truth, so he is correct. However, if the one you are talking to is honest, then he is telling the truth when he says the other one would say the door before you leads to the castle. But in this circumstance, the other one lies when he says 'yes.' So that though he lies, he still would say the door before you leads to the castle. Even though, he being the liar, is giving you the wrong information."

Magnus gaped at his cousin agog, "I did not understand a word of that, but... Wow. Well done."

The Chase family clapped, and Annabeth flushed, but smiled widely.

Eventually, after a time that seemed interminable, the train pulled up at Grand Central Station, and the gaggle of Chases spilled out onto the platform. By this time, the sun was at its peak, and like, perhaps, the Red Sea parting for Moses, the clouds had cleared, and through the windows, shafts of light flaunted their glory. Annabeth sucked in air. Though she had been here on countless occasions, the impressive architecture of the station never failed to astound her. Through her eyes, the walls painted themselves, and came alive, the building speaking volumes of its history. Of what it had seen and heard and lived. On their way out - their way out, a route that wrought on Annabeth that awful memory of she and her mother's conversation here, barely more than six months ago - the family detoured at a Subway to purchase lunch. And either Annabeth's ADHD was acting up, or the queue was practically at a standstill. It seemed to inch along like a snail, labouring not beneath a shell, but the harsh demand of the customers'. Finally though, the family was at the front, and a flustered looking guy, who appeared hardly older than Annabeth herself, was serving them sandwiches. Annabeth watched as his hands slipped on the bags, as he almost dropped a quarter, as he blew air up into his face. Already the morning, and already so flustered. Poor guy. Then Annabeth took her lunch, and strode out of the door behind her family, stifling the large yawn building in her throat.

The family finally adjourned a few blocks later, when Henry decided they should get going, having to return to Boston now, or they would arrive home very late. Annabeth pitied them. She knew she wouldn't like to brave another four hours by train. And so there was an exchange of hugs and promises to meet up again soon, and Annabeth watched as her cousin, and her aunt and uncle disappeared into an oncoming cab that would take them all the way back to Grand Central. Then she and her family hopped on a bus, and wove through the vivid streets of Manhattan until they were deep in the heart of the city. It served as a startling dichotomy between that isolated little village they had been in only hours before.

No sooner had Frederick slipped the key into the lock, that a great wave of deja vu washed over Annabeth, threatening to sweep her away into the perilous currents of the ocean. The door swung open with that familiar creak, to reveal a familiar hallway; that familiar musky scent; the familiar shoes strewn across the porches. Annabeth frowned as she stepped over the threshold. It felt surreal to be back home, even though it had only been five days. In that such strange way, that she caught herself wondering how living here had ever become habitual, yet also how she had lived without the rhythm of this house and this family. Annabeth yawned again, and with a purpose, ignoring her family behind her, she dragged her feet into the kitchen. There she greeted a long lost friend. A devoted, compassionate companion of whom she had missed with an aching passion. A part of, that without, she wasn't sure she could live: the coffee machine. Out of routine, Annabeth did not even have to think as she reached for her mug above her head, as she fiddled with the machine, as she pressed buttons and a steady stream of espresso came streaming into the cup, its noise hollow and satisfying.

"Already?" Said a deep, masculine voice behind her. The smile was barely concealed. Annabeth turned to her father, and rubbed her eyes.

"What? I'm tired. It's not like I'm having alcohol at nine."

Frederick shrugged. "Okay."

"So when is this dinner party?"

"Tomorrow."

"Will it be very boring?"

"Well, one my colleagues has a girl your age, and another a son. There's a couple of other kids, too."

"Yes, but will it be boring?"

"Well, I hope not."

Annabeth sighed deeply, and, mug now full, took a drain of coffee. She almost choked it right back out, the liquid scalding her mouth like hot iron. Her father raised an eyebrow.

"That was hardly very wise."

"Excuse me. I'll have you now, I'm a daughter of Athena. I am known for my wisdom," Annabeth stated, laughing.

"I must say, the way you worked out that riddle was impressive. When my colleague told me it, I didn't get it, I needed someone to explain it to me."

Annabeth's forehead creased. "But it wasn't that hard."

Frederick pulled a face, and batted his daughter on the arm with an aviation magazine. "Alright! Don't show off! You, with your perpetual intelligence!"


	48. Chapter 48

A/N: first and foremost, I guess the time calls for a disclaimer. So, here goes: I don't own PJO or any if it's characters, that belongs to Rick. Done. Now I can tell you what really wanted to say: thank you so much for 2k reads! Oh my gods, you are all the best. Honestly, I had no idea this would exceed one hundred, let alone one thousand. But here we are, standing at these crossroad. ? ﾟﾎﾉmy gratitude is not quite one I can put in words, only that for me, that little count of reads slowly creeping up warms my bones. It is the small steps, to me, to the future as a writer I desire. And wether I start that simply, with either this fanfiction, or a million reads drama, these are the first steps. Thank you all so much ❤️

"Annabeth?"

"Mm?"

"Annabeth!?"

"Yes, yes. What?"

It was the day of the dinner party, and Annabeth, half asleep on her bed, phone dropped on her chest, blinked. Her younger brother, Matthew, leered over her bed, his face wearing the mask of childish innocence. Annabeth picked up her phone again. It slipped from her grasp and fell back onto her breast. She sighed, and grabbed it again, holding it pointedly to her face, as though she could shun her brother out.

"What do you want Matthew? Go away," She groaned. Matthew tugged at her arm impetuously. Annabeth bared her teeth, and yanked it back towards her.

"What do want?"

"Dad's calling. He wants you to help clean the house and set the table for the dinner. Also, he says you must wear a dress, and perhaps make-up."

A sort of shadow, a surprised and hard expression of alarm, crossed Annabeth's face.

"Um, no," she said, "No thanks. Wrong number. I'm not wearing a dress. Not the ones I own anyway, they're horrible."

"Yeah. He told me to tell you that if you refuse, the alternative is a tux."

Annabeth made a choking sound in the back of her throat. She was about to ask her brother what he was wearing, then, when another voice joined the conversation.

"Annabeth!" A feminine voice called. There was the clicking of shoes on the stairs, and presently, the door to Annabeth's bedroom was thrust open to reveal Helen. And in her hand she held-

"Look what I found!" Helen said with a grin. In her hand, she held- Gods. Annabeth's breath caught in her throat. It was that familiar dress. The one Annabeth had had for so long. The one of grey chiffon. The one that was knee length. The one that swished with every step and and caught - then shattered - every spray of light that came its way. It was such a dress that was the only one Annabeth liked, and had actually worn sometimes: on special occasions like the Fourth of July, and once, on Percy's birthday. Still, it did not mean Annabeth wanted to wear a dress now, and the teenager heaved a greatly infuriated sigh, and threw down her phone.

"How did you find that?" She asked. Helen shrugged.

"It was in your trunk, up in the attic."

"My trunk? The one I said was private? The one with personal objects? The one with enough memories to fill up this entire house?"

Helen suddenly looked very regretful, and sheepish. "I didn't know it was private. And I didn't look at anything else in there. I'm sorry."

"Well, never mind," Annabeth sighed. There was nothing to gain from causing a row with her step-mother so... "It's fine," she found herself saying, "But why do I have to dress up like that?"

"Because your father's boss is coming also, and so he wants to make a good impression. Perhaps even get a promotion."

"And he wants to do that how? By dolling his daughter up?"

"Firstly, you are not dolled up, this is what people wear on a daily basis. Secondly, no. But this is a formal occasion and he wants us to look neat and tidy. All of us. I'm wearing a dress, and your brothers are wearing shirts and ties."

"Oh, I understand," Annabeth said, "He hopes to get a promotion by being pretentious and intimidating his colleagues. Oh, you should have told me."

Helen rolled her eyes, so that they almost went all the way back into her head. "You know exactly it's not that. Now go and help your father clean, and stop being a smart ass."

Annabeth laughed as her step-mother retreated, and then, after bidding the friends she was texting goodbye, ran after Helen.

"So what needs doing?" Annabeth asked her father. Frederick looked up from dusting the shelfs, and indicated to the windows.

"Clean the windows."

"Can't Bobby and Matthew?"

"No. There's bleach, gloves and a sponge down here," Frederick pointed to the cupboard beneath the counter. Gritting her teeth, Annabeth bent and gathered the items in her arm. Then hobbled over to the nearest window and began to scrub furiously.

The grime on the glass panels came off as easily as if one were peeling their jacket off. As Annabeth worked, she tried to distract her thoughts. So that she could look through, beyond the windows, and see not a desperate, broken shell of a world, but a bumbling metropolis full of life and dancing lights. It was natural, that her thoughts were stirred by this, and sprang into action immediately. Without the consent of its host, Annabeth's brain guided her down the familiar roads and streets and that bus stop, until she reached that cosy apartment, there, in Upper Manhattan. Were there were most likely three people now; a woman with smiling blue eyes and a swollen belly perhaps was sitting on the couch reading. Maybe her husband was besides her, a protective hand in his wife's stomach. Not that he realised what he was doing. And then... probably there was a boy with them too. A tall one. With the mop of raven hair and the eyes that held all the seven seas in their depth. He could be studying now in his bedroom. Or it was likely that he too, was at his mother's side, ready to satisfy her every need. Or perhaps he was even on his phone, texting his girlfriend, whom was stuck here, in her house, scrubbing at windows and readying herself to slip into the finest gown she owned.

"Honey, I think the window's clean now."

Annabeth blinked, discontented to be dragged from her reverie with such a jolt.

"Mm. So it is." She yawned widely, and rubbed her eyes, taking displeasure in the deep bags beneath them, their cracked aspect, the gash running beneath those one of those two little windows to her soul.

Fredrick frowned, and studied his daughter carefully. "Are you okay?" He asked, concern staining his words. Annabeth shrugged - a shrug that turned into a roll of the shoulders and a small stretch to alleviate that awful tightness of her muscles. She was rarely ever 'okay,' as such. Always, unless with friends or, mainly, that beautiful boy with sea green eyes and raven hair, she would be shackled by the ever-present, ever-looming monster that was her panic attacks and those awful, awful nightmares. But then again, 'okay,' was relative. And given her situation, yes, Annabeth was okay.

Later that evening, Annabeth stared at herself in the mirror. Undoubtedly, she looked beautiful. Beautiful and, at least in the mellow glow of the bathroom, ethereal. The grey dress fitted her perfectly, its bodice hugging her torso, accentuating the dips and curves of her every inch of flesh. Highlighting each muscle cording her stomach and, candidly, the feminine swell of her bosom. The skirts of the dress fell like a waterfall around Annabeth's legs; chiffon kissing her bare skin, shifting and slithering like a snake, the folds rippling with the small draft from the open window. Her coral pendant hung at her throat, as red and glorious as a ruby. And then there was her face. After much persistence on Helen's part, Annabeth had finally relented to splashing on a small degree of make-up, and the mascara on her eyelashes brought out stark, the grey of her irises. Annabeth's bottle of concealer was also there, discarded in the bathroom counter. It was odd, because today, Annabeth had chosen to not cover up her each and every scar. Only those that were the worst. Those with the darkest story. And so, the gashes tearing her flesh, gave Annabeth a strange sort of wild, savage look, to contrast with the elegant facade she has painted on herself.

There was a knock on the door, and Annabeth started.

"Annabeth!" Called Frederick's voice. "Come on, the guests are due to arrive in five minutes!"

"Okay! I'm coming now. Just-" with a sigh, Annabeth pushed open the door, wary of her father on the other side, and stepped outside into the landing. She was greeted with the face of a smirking Frederick Chase, as he studied his daughter up and down.

"I knew you could make effort if you wanted," He said, clearly already comfortable in his striped tie, crisp shirt, stiff trousers and dress shoes, "why the sudden effort, though? Is there someone coming, I should perhaps know about?" Frederick's tone was teasing, but still, Annabeth felt herself flush lightly.

"Percy isn't coming, and please stop using every opportunity you get to embarrass me."

"But it's fun, making your teenage daughter blush."

"Not for the recipient."

Just then, Bobby and Matthew burst out of their room, clothed in the most formal clothes Annabeth had ever seen them wear. They laughed, and Bobby and detoured, running around Frederick and Annabeth. Matthew chased him.

"Woah, guys," Frederick exclaimed, regaining his balance after almost getting pushed over, "mind out. And God Matthew, tuck your shirt in! Bobby, do up your top button!"

The ringing of a doorbell flooded through the house. It resounded on the walls, and reverberated through the rooms like a drum.

'Ring.'

It was that dreadful sound of the alarm in the morning. It was that pounding of blood in her ears after a perilous nightmare. And then it morphed into the chattering of birds in the enthral of the twilit skies. A sudden knot of panic formed in Annabeth's stomach. Perhaps she should have covered up all her scars? Maybe she should have shaved her legs beforehand? Or what if the concealer ran- for some obscure reason - and then that awful scar on her thigh was revealed to the whole world. Annabeth shook these thoughts from her mind. It was stupid, to feel fear at a dinner party. No one would comment. No one would scrutinise her. She was fine. Annabeth took a deep breath, and the belt around her stomach loosed a little. Frederick shot her a final, teasing glance, and began down the stairs to open the door.

"Hello Frederick! Nice to see you!"

From her vantage point at the top of the the stairs, Annabeth could see a broad shouldered man, in a snappy pinstriped suit, shaking her father's hand. He stepped over the threshold, and was followed promptly by another woman, and two little children: a boy and a girl.

"Hello Max, Angelica." Frederick exclaimed, "It's great to see you!" And the kids, hello. What are your names- don't tell me - Lewis and Antonia? Yes? Lovely to meet you." Annabeth watched as courtesies were exchanged with the practice and ease, as if one were simply chatting about their day. Suddenly, Frederick turned his head upstairs.

"Kids! Come down!" Annabeth noted his casual demeanour, precisely done to show a relaxed state of mind. To depict him as a paternal figure, and an organised one too, hence the firm handshakes and formal, though relaxed, greetings. Annabeth decided to play along.

"Coming, dad!' For a breath of a second, Annabeth was tempted to call him 'Pa,' and see how her father would react, but in this day and age, that was usually quite pretentious. So with Bobby and Matthew running past her - their faces contorted in excitement, ties flying out, their shirts like duck tails - Annabeth padded down the stairs to the guests gathered in the the hallway. She came to a pause alongside her father, who smiled, and gesticulated to his children.

"May I present to you, my children," Frederick said, "This is Bobby, this is Matthew," Mr Chase patted each child on the head as he went, "And this is Annabeth." As the presumed 'Max,' laid eyes on Annabeth, the girl saw a flicker of a shadow dance across his countenance. As his gaze became pinned on the scars littering her face, those marring her arms, the ones that riddled her legs. Then that expression was gone, as quick as it had come- the flame of a candle being blown out - and the man smiled pleasantly and extended a hand to her. Annabeth shook it.

"Pleased to meet you... Max?"

"Likewise, Annabeth."

There was the sound of a buzzer again, and Annabeth looked up from the conversation she had struck up with six-year-old Antonia.

"Annabeth, can you answer that please!?" Frederick called from the living room, where he and the McGregor family (Max and company) where indulging in fascinating talk about tax. Annabeth sighed, and lifted herself from the dining chair. She headed down the hallway, debating in her mind how to greet this newcomer - wether she'd know them or not. Soon, too soon, the door loomed up at her, and Annabeth braced a hand on the knob ready to turn it; shifted her fingers, and the handle spun with ease. The door opened, creaking almost in assent, to reveal a smiling, familiar face, squinting at Annabeth.

"Annabeth?" It asked. Annabeth froze at that voice, and a deluge of recollection washed over her. And so, Annabeth found herself remembering a time when she was six, and this woman would always slip her that little last square of chocolate. When Annabeth was thirteen, and had been hugged by this woman's strong arms, and a voice laughing, so happy to see the young demigod after all these years. Scared she had seen the last of that little seven year old girl. The last time Annabeth and the woman before her had seen each other, two years ago, when Annabeth had been fifteen. It had been that day when Frederick had dragged his daughter to his work, and there Annabeth and -. Annabeth peered into the blinding sunlight.

"Catherine?" She asked. Catherine grinned and bowed, then came and embraced Annabeth tightly.

"Oh my god, you've gotten so big!" She exclaimed, "You're seventeen now!

Nice dress! You must tell me everything. How's school? Studying hard? Forget that, do you have a boyfriend?"

And Annabeth found herself laughing and smiling. Whilst usually she despised when people came upon her life this, while usually it felt an intrusion of her privacy, Catherine had always been kind and funny, and for some reason, those factors had made Annabeth long ago, feel comfortable with sharing little aspects of her life with the elder woman.

She hugged Catherine back fiercely. "Well, a lot's happened." Annabeth said.

"I've got all night."

Annabeth and Catherine walked into the living room, and Frederick smiled as they strode in.

"Catherine!" He said, beaming, "I'm so glad you could make it"

"So am I- wouldn't want your teenage daughter to die of boredom now, would we? That would hardly do."

The party laughed, and Annabeth did so too, sliding into the sofa alongside Catherine. Once the adults had again begun their tedious monotone of a conversation, Annabeth turned to the woman besides her.

"So, how are you, Catherine?" She asked.

"I'm great, to be honest. Just moved in with my partner. I got a promotion, came back the day before yesterday from a trip around Europe." There was pride in the voice, but somehow, no ego. Annabeth smiled, happy, if feeling a twang of envy inside of her. For how carelessly, and joyfully Catherine could throw out those words. "But what about you?" Catherine asked, distorting Annabeth's train of thought, "How have you been doing?"

In the few seconds that followed, Annabeth felt such a haze and mix of emotions uncoiling inside her. She felt a fire start somewhere in the corner of her heart, and a bomb go off in the darkest depths of her mind. There was anguish. Sadness and hatred and fear, but also queer feelings of ebullience and joy. There was the ringing of metal in her ears as swords slashed, emotions fighting for dominance. Back and forth. Back and forth-

'Ring.'

The doorbell cut through her thoughts, her battle, like a knife. Annabeth started.

"Would you get the door again, honey?" Frederick asked. Annabeth resisted rolling her eyes, but smiled apologetically at Catherine, and got up all the same.

Framed in the empty doorway, stood a family of four. At the head was a middle-aged woman, clad in floral print dress, then a man, with a navy suit, and behind him? two red-headed children, both girls. One looked about twelve, and the other perhaps eighteen.

"Hello," Annabeth said, forcing a smile upon her lips. The woman only returned it with the merest twitch of her lips.

"Hello," she responded, her voice eloquent and educated, "Is Mr Chase here?"

'Mr Chase,' Annabeth noted, not 'Frederick.'

"Yes," she replied, "I'm his daughter."

"Oh, Annabel isn't it?"

"Annabeth."

"My apologies. Honour to meet you Annabeth." The woman held out a hand, and Annabeth shook it firmly.

"Thank you," she said, "What's your name?"

"Mrs Davidson-I'm your father's boss."

"Oh," Annabeth felt suddenly flustered, thinking she possibly should have given the woman a grander welcome, "I'm sorry, I should've realised. Welcome, do come in."

"Thank you."

Mrs Davidson strode stiffly into the hallway, and her family followed. Their demeanour was quite pushy, Annabeth couldn't help but think, as they stripped off their winter coats, hung up their hats, and, with a self-assured, confident gait, made their way into the sitting room. It seemed to Annabeth, that they were the kind of people whom would pick up somebody's belongings, and expect their company - whomever that may be - to take delight simply in their interest in whatever object was in question. She followed the family back into her living room, and beheld the scene with a sort of avid fascination. It was curious, how when Catherine and the McGregors and that little man in the armchair had arrived, there had been a joyful sort of clamour. Greetings exchanged with rapture, the pleasantries informal and friendly. However, upon the arrival of the Davidson, a hush settled over the little ensemble. One were each person smouldered beneath the burning gaze of their boss and her family. Where a tentative smile and a helpless glance at their host was all all and sundry could manage.

A tight-lipped smile formed on Frederick's face. He rose from the comforts of the sofa and shook his boss's hand firmly.

"Mrs Davidson," he said, feigning enthusiasm, "It's a pleasure for you to be here."

"Thank you, Mr Chase. It's most kind of you to host this dinner."

Fredrick'a dipped in a polite acknowledgment, as he gestured to his children and wife.

"If I may present to you, my wonderful wife, Helen," alright, Annabeth thought. Everybody loved a family man, "and my three children, Bobby, Matthew, and Annabeth."

"Yes, Annabeth was very courteous at the door. My two daughters here. Come on girls, say hello."

Behind her mother's back, the elder girl rolled her eyes, plainly irked by Davidson's harrowing nature. She smiled at the throng, and put a protective arm around her younger sister, who was trying to slip behind her.

"Hey. I'm Tam," she said, grinning flippantly, "and this," Tam patted her sister on the shoulder, the blue fabric on her dress billowing as she went, "this is Lily." She shot Annabeth a lopsided smile, and Annabeth beamed back. A sort of liking gave sudden fruit between them.

'Ring!'

The buzzer rang out again. It penetrated through the walls and the doorways until it became a pounding headache in Annabeth's ears. With distaste, she closed her eyes. Perhaps the blinds across her eyes could also be doors across her ears.

"Annabeth would you-"

"-Please, not again. Can't Bobby or Matthew?"

"Fine. Bobby, please can you please get the door."

Apparently sensing the urgency of courtesy in this situation, Bobby just smiled and nodded.

Half an hour later, Annabeth was at the table, Catherine on one side and Tam on the other. Also, apparently spinning them the yarn of her life. It was hard to explain the scars without giving a story. It was hard to explain a hellish summer without some sort of a summary. And then still, hard to put into words the rollercoaster of a life that was Annabeth Chase's, without letting slip of a Greek god, and a quest, and then letting the whole thing spill over like a glass filled to its rim.

"So what did you say his name was" Catherine giggled. Annabeth rolled her eyes, and toyed with her fork.

"Perseus."

"And you knew him since the age of twelve? That's so sweet."

Now, Annabeth found herself heaving a deep annoyed sigh.

"I guess."

"And it took you five years to ask him out?"

Annabeth cupped her head in her hands. "Gods, I swear you are more invested in my personal life than I am."

Tam muffled a laugh that would not bode well with the serious conversation the adults were having. In the centre of the table lay a chicken, aristocratic amongst the crowd of short glasses and vegetables. By now, all the guests had arrived, and through the calming hubbub of chatter, there could be heard the clinking of cutlery, a knife scraping against a plate, the sloshing of wine in a glass. Catherine, it was evident, was slightly bored. The woman was more about practical activities, and sitting at a dinner table, all rigged up, discussing tax probably was not her favourite topic of conversation. Annabeth could relate. Still though, she wasn't exactly content when her father had pushed her - and eighteen year old Tam too - at the end of the table, with all the other children. Tax may have been a boring subject (and yes, Tam may have called it 'Taxing,' when she was asked her opinion on it), but that shouldn't mean Annabeth had to be squashed in among ten years olds.

"Catherine?" Helen called from the other side of the table. Catherine, crouched besides Annabeth and Tam, having a fun time trespassing on the teenager's respective love lives, looked up.

"Yes?"

"Are you coming back here, or will you stay with the children?"

"Ah yes. I guess I'll be heading back to you. See you later, girls."

As the meal progressed, Annabeth was glad to find that Tam had not inherited her mother's pushy nature. On the contrary, she was friendly and polite. She smiled a lot more, and laughed hard Annabeth's witty comments. It was strange, how the girls' conversations altered, swift as a current. At one point, they were in a deep conversation about the injustices of having to wear a dress to this even (Cornflower blue? Really?), then, they somehow caught themselves in an avid discussion about politics (still, they refrained from discussing tax).

And it was during one of these rapturous, crazy conversations that the doorbell rang again. Frederick frowned. Clearly, he had not expected any more visitors. Annabeth saw him glance curiously at Helen, a question written all over his face. But if he had expected an answer, he did not get one, because his wife merely shrugged, and went back to her food.

"Matthew, would you-?"

"But- I haven't finished yet. Can't Annabeth?"

Mr Chase looked a little helplessly at his daughter.

"Fine." Annabeth said, "I'll be back in a moment."

Once outside in the hallway, the comforting drone of conversation resumed. Annabeth's brow creased as she headed for the door. She found herself painfully conscious of her every step: every creak of the floorboard, every ruffle of her dress, every breath she whispered into the still air. Through the foggy glass panes of the door, Annabeth could make out a single silhouette, stark against an evening sky. It was tall and lean, though muscular, it appeared. There was a casual stance in whomever's stance. A slight shift of the weight onto the right, and folding of the arms. Annabeth felt as if the door swam before her. Part of her wanted to reach it already. Another murmur in her mind wanted it to never come. Still, somehow, Annabeth found her hand braced on the handle. She found her fingers twitching. She didn't bother to ask who it was. She just twisted the knob. And there Annabeth was, letting the door open. Gods, that creak it made was too familiar. Gods... gods. The door swung open, and there he was, standing in the doorway, a casual smile on his face... and gods she had missed him.

Annabeth didn't say anything as she walked into his arms. She didn't allow herself to think as the cold stabbed at her limbs. Didn't breathe. Didn't even blink. She just acted. Percy's warm arms wrapped around her, his face burying itself somewhere in the depths of her hair. And he didn't even kiss her and she didn't kiss him. They didn't need that to show their love. Their reckless passion. They just hugged each other tight. So tight, Annabeth thought she would never let him go or even be let go. She wanted to cry and laugh and yes, reach up and kiss that mouth. She had missed him so much. So painfully. So many pangs that had racked her body each night in that futile yearning. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder, wanting to drown in him, his soul, his heart. Distantly, Annabeth was aware of a frigid wind blowing through her hair, her skirts, her face. She thought, at first, it was the wind that kissed her cheeks, only to then realise it was Percy. And she kissed him back. And she hugged him harder. And only when they broke away - after a time that could have been a second or millennia - they just stared at each other.

"Gods, I missed you so much," Percy whispered, as though afraid that a voice any louder would break the very world around them. Annabeth's words were equally as hushed.

"I know," she breathed into the mesmerising glow of the Golden Hour, "Gods, Percy, I know."

"Did you find my gift?"

"I did. It made me cry."

Percy's ecstatic expression turned to concern, then worry.

"Is that bad?" He asked, "or cry, as in, good?"

"Good. Definitely good. Di immortales, I can't thank you enough. Oh gods. Gods. I love you."

Percy looked relived. "I'm glad," he said, "And- Holy Hephaestus, do mine eyes deceive me, or is The Annabeth Chase wearing a dress?"

Annabeth looked down at herself, suddenly self conscious about the ensemble she was bedecked in. She opted to laugh, which was not hard.

"My dad's having a dinner party."

"Oh," Percy suddenly seemed to realise the tinkling of laughter and buzz of voices down the hall.

"He said it was this dress or a tux," Annabeth wrinkled her nose, "Neither was preferable, but I do think this one trumps a suit. There was cool hand placed on her cheek.

"I think you look beautiful. Wether you like the dress or not. You look beautiful. And I would say it a thousand more times, with each dying breath. Because a rose by any other name - or clothing in this sense - would still smell as sweet."

Annabeth hoped her face wasn't burning too much. Not as much as her heart and her soul. Not as much as the fires igniting in the corners of her mind. The delirious blanket wrapping her up in its warm embrace. Even as she debated between laughing so hard at Percy's soppiness, or to fall back into the safety of his arms.

"Why are you here?" She asked, finding herself incapable to express the emotions rampaging inside her. Percy shrugged.

"Missed you. I couldn't wait until tomorrow."

Something in Annabeth's heart crumbled, and tumbled down to her feet.

"Just.. just come here," Annabeth stood on the points of her feet, and pressed a kiss to his mouth. She thought he might have smiled. An arm was placed around her back, and she put a hand to his face, and in that instance, the world became paraffin and melted away. It became a broken, crumbling tower. It became a thousand rolling waves that broke on the surface of a glossy white beach. Nothing mattered. Not the party. Not Catherine or Tam or her brothers and father and stepmother. Not even ever her steaming dinner on the plate. It was as if Manhattan and the States and America and then the whole globe faded into a mere wraith. Something merely a figment of a someone's ludicrous imagination. Because love was elusive. And once one found it, even if they had to face harrowing memories and haunted pasts and fights that would forever scar one's mind, at the end of the day it was worth it. It was worth it and Annabeth would do everything, anything, all her experiences again and again and again so long as she could feel the binding manacles, but also the feathered wings, of love.

"Annabeth!" Called a voice, "Are you still alive out there!?"

Percy and Annabeth broke apart, first wide-eyed, then stifling bouts of giggles. Frantically, Annabeth smoothed her rumbled skirts and ran a hand through her hair, slightly dishevelled from pressing her face against Percy's shoulder.

"Uh. I think so," Annabeth replied, and was shocked to find her voice hoarse, yet somehow vivid and alive. Footfalls resounded through the hallway, and Catherine's familiar face poked through the doorway.

"Annabeth, what took you, your - oh, hello. Who are you?"

"Um," Percy extended a calloused hand, "Percy Jackson."

"Oh." Clarity surfaced in Catherine's face, and a grin broke her countenance.

"Catherine? Who was it?" Helen asked from the dining room.

"No one. Just Annabeth's boyfriend!"

"Catherine!" Annabeth protested, embarrassed for it to be shouted to the entire party. Her face flushed scarlet.

"Oh, Percy?" Helen's tone was unruffled and happy, "Does he want to come and eat something?"

At Annabeth's side, Percy looked confused, most likely as to Helen's strange change in behaviour.

"If you're sure it's no trouble, Mrs Chase," he said uncertainly.

"Not at all."

"Oh. Thank you very much."

At the table, Percy was clearly nervous. Among the crowd of formal professors and doctors, he stuck out like a sore thumb. There was a certain, hilarious dichotomy, between Percy's vest top (most people would've been blocks of ice with the winter chill) and cargo pants, and, take Bobby and Matthew's, freshly ironed shirts, and long ties. He sat uncomfortably besides Annabeth, occupying the place Catherine had sat at a little while ago, trying his best to cut chicken as best he could, whilst still on the bone.

"Don't feel too bad," Annabeth muttered in his ear, "I have no idea what I'm doing either."

Percy laughed softly, and beneath the table, surreptitiously, so that it was impossible for any other to see, cool fingers closed around Annabeth's.

"At least you're dressed accordingly." He told her, "I had no idea your dad's boss was here as well."

"Does Sally know you're here."

"Yeah. I told her I was coming to greet you. She did roll her eyes and ask if I could not wait till tomorrow. I said no."

Annabeth's grip tightened on her boyfriend's hand. It seemed that all in vicinity were gone. Faded into the background, their talk meaningless white noise. Even Tam had reverted to talking with six-year old Antonia. The only figure defined and important to see was Percy. She wanted to kiss him again. To hug him. To hold him and never let go. But she couldn't, not here with everybody. With her family and friends and colleagues. Mentally, Annabeth cursed them and their cumbersome ways. Bitterly wondering why they were here, obstacles between her and her boyfriend.

"Annabeth, can you help me get the pudding?" Someone asked in a pitiful, child's voice. Annabeth looked up to see Matthew, talking to her across the table.

"Mm. I guess. Have you all eaten?" She asked the children. Some looked up- the older ones nodding, but the younger ones, just glanced up and went back to whatever game they were indulging in. Annabeth sighed.

"Have you all eaten?"

She was greeted with no replies, only the laughter of toddlers. Annabeth's patience began to wear.

"I asked if you're all done!"

Nothing. Gods, this was like herding sheep. A muscle feathered in Annabeth's jaw.

"Have you all-" a gentle hand was placed on her arm, and Annabeth looked down to seen Percy's kindly smile.

"Let me do this," he said gently. No, Annabeth's brain would not melt. No, it wouldn't.

"Please do."

A little while later, after Percy rounded up the smaller children somewhat more successfully than Annabeth, and the party had devoured cheesecake, Percy and Annabeth were standing in the hallway.

"I need to finish packing," Percy was saying, "I've only managed a pair of socks and a shirt so far."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Annabeth laughed. Percy elbowed her, but without force.

"So, we're coming by at nine tomorrow in the car."

"I'll try and be ready."

"And call okay? You need anything tonight, call me."

"I- I'll see. I don't want be - I don't want to -"

"If you say 'burden to me,' then I say we have been through this," Percy said slowly, "Never in this life or any that will follow, will you ever be a burden. That I will take to my grave."

"Oh, don't make me cry now," Annabeth chuckled.

"Well, in that case I'd better leave," Percy pressed a swift kiss to her mouth, "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow!"

And Annabeth watched, a smile blossoming on her countenance, as Percy waved and began down the street, his gait carefree and happy. And though it was hard to be sure, Annabeth thought he may even have been humming.


	49. Chapter 49

As soon as the first shrill beep of the alarm rang out, Annabeth's hand went down to mute it. She hadn't needed the alarm, she knew that, not with the overwhelming fact that she didn't even sleep at night, due to the nightmares, but there had been a certain feeling of completion upon setting it. It made her feel organised and responsible, so that she could lift herself from her bed after a fitful slumber of terrifying dreams, with a rejuvenating sensation of maturity. So, before it woke her entire family, Annabeth's fingers went down on the phone and slid. The alarm turned off with a resigned, halfhearted, breath of a 'beep.' Annabeth turned her head to her phone, and sighed deeply at seeing the numbers blinking up at her. Eight in the morning. Couldn't she just stay in bed a little while longer? Just another minute... sink into the covers... close her eyes... Maybe, mayb-

"Annabeth?" A husky, sleep-riddled voice called from Helen and Frederick's room, "Get up. You need eat breakfast."

"What? Oh, right. I'm coming."

"Sh. Keep your voice down, your brothers are asleep." Her father replied stilly.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get up fine."

"Mm, okay."

Bracing herself, as one might for a deadly blow, Annabeth shut her eyes, and ripped off the quilts. The cold was instantaneous. It rippled like water over her body; the silken breath of Bóreas. A shiver accompanied it, coursing it's way up Annabeth's skin, and penetrating through, into the marrow of her bones.

The bed groaned as she heaved herself off it. Almost in protest, really, calling her back to its tantalising warmth. But yet, Annabeth resisted, not succumbing to its beguiling ways - beguiling, because she knew as soon as she laid herself bare before the deceitful prowess of her berth, she would fall back into ravenous, fearful nightmares.

"Annabeth," called that muffled voice again, "are you up?"

Annabeth reached for the shirt she had left out last night, her movements bordering on trepidation, so quiet they were. Percy's gift too, she had left till last to pack. And Paul's, and Sally's.

"Yeah," she whispered tartly back in the general direction of her father's voice, careful to ensure the presents did not fall the floor, as she slid her shirt out from beneath the pile. The answering snore was all Annabeth needed to know Frederick had heard, and she smiled to herself in amusement.

The orange Camp top she wriggled into was comfortable, if a little tight. Or perhaps it wasn't comfort she felt, but that Annabeth felt satisfaction at the familiar feel of it on her skin, as though she were greeting an old friend after years apart. Then her jeans, which were faded from the years, stretchy and torn; those little owls she pinned into her ears gleaming in the early morning light, filtering in from the window. Once she was dressed, Annabeth stared at her reflection and frowned slightly. She wore long trousers and a jacket, so there wasn't really any need to cover up the scars. Perhaps those ones on her face only? But still, she would be with no one but Percy, Sally and Paul. So there wasn't really much need to conceal even those. Maybe Annabeth was just making excuses, or maybe she did truly agree that she didn't need it, but somehow, she found herself reaching into her toiletries bag. She found herself digging around through toothpaste and toothbrushes and hairbrushes, and felt her fingers curl around a familiar tub. She saw herself withdraw it, and then, with practised ease, place the bottle on her desk, discarded, not needed. Then, with a small smile, Annabeth grabbed her bag and exited her room, the door and doorframe kissing with barely a sound. And as she made her way down the stairs, to the kitchen and a plate of scrambled eggs, the bottle of concealer lay on her desk in her room, hemmed in by stacks of paper, stationary, and a laptop.

At precisely eight hours, fifty seven minutes, and thirty two seconds, before noon, a blue Prius drew up outside Annabeth's house. Annabeth tore her gaze from the clock, and hastened to her feet, her plate of scrambled eggs pushed aside. She had told Percy not to buzz, lest it wake her entire family, and so that meant for the past half hour, she'd had to be on constant vigilance by the window. Not that she wouldn't have been anyway. Not bothering to conceal the smile growing on her face, Annabeth moved the note wishing her family a happy new year to the centre of the table, and gripped her suitcase. Yawning, she slipped out of the dining room and into the barren hallway. The walls seemed to lean in over her, peering curiously, wondering as to where their young tenant was headed. Almost before Annabeth realised she was at it; her hand on the knob; her body pushing against it, the door opened, that familiar creak sounding out like music through the walls. Then Annabeth stepped out into the thick Manhattan air, and hurried down the path.

There was a split-second, where Annabeth was unsure on how to greet the Jacksons. A nanosecond where her thoughts raced: Hug them? Thank them? Shake their hands? She was spared by Paul's chirpy voice. "Annabeth! Good morning!"

Annabeth grinned, partly contemplating how anybody could sound so cheery in the morning, partly laughing at herself for her risible thoughts.

"Good morning," she replied happily, "shall I put my case in the boot?"

"Yeah, um, hold on," Annabeth watched as Paul fumbled in his pocket and took out a set of car keys. He passed it to her.

"You need help?"

"Don't worry, I'm okay," Annabeth heaved the lid of the boot up, and with one strong arm, placed her suitcase atop Percy's familiar one. The sight of such blue bag sent a rush of memories coursing through her veins. She tamped down on them - both the good and the bad - as she clambered into the back seat of the vast besides a grinning Percy.

"Hey Wise Girl," he said, "Alright?"

"Never better."

Percy laughed softly, and smiled. In that instance, it was so that his smile seemed to shake the world right off its feet. It was a smile painted in the most beautiful of colours, and a smile that glistened and danced in the early morning light.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" Sally asked, "we have some fruit if you'd like. And chocolate, but that's for later."

Annabeth leaned forward slightly in her seat, touched at the maternal fussing.

"I've eaten, don't worry."

"Okay, that's alright then. Tell me if you're hungry."

"So how was this vacation with your long lost family?" Percy said, "Mom said she found you at the Olive Garden." Annabeth found herself chuckling .

"It was strange," she replied, then wrinkled her nose a little, "Magnus was a bit annoying though."

"How so?" Sally asked, laughing from shotgun.

"He assisted my brothers in taking my phone, made jokes at my expense, teased me, then thought it a good idea to teach me about a 'Happy Place.'"

At her side, Percy chortled, and his fingers idly hooked around hers.

"I'm glad you survived."

"So am I." Annabeth decided, at that moment, not to tell them about Echidna.

"Buckle up," Paul said. He slotted the key in, turned it, and with a cough, the engine started up, roaring to life like a lion. Without a sliver of sadness, Annabeth watched as the car inched forwards, and that familiar house she lived in shrank, until it became a meaningless dot in the jungle of a meaningless neighbourhood, in a perhaps not so meaningless city.

Halfway through the car ride, the Prius pulled up into a BP service station.

"Toilet break," Sally said simply. It struck Annabeth, by the mundane simplicity, in which the family went about this inconsequential task - that this was routine. A routine stop in a routine vacation. Except, she was coming here too, this time, and that alone was an exception in this routine. And Annabeth revelled in the way that the Jacksons, even so little into the trip, already made her feel like one of their own.

"Right, ladies - or you know, just me and Annabeth," Sally turned to face the younger woman, "Let's go freshen up."

"Alright." Annabeth shifted her cramped legs, and let the door swing open. A pleasing blast of cold air kissed her cheeks, complementing the stuffy one of the car. Bracing a hand on the frame of the car, Annabeth stumbled to her feet. On the other side of the vehicle, Percy appeared, smiling as the gale, the one coming in from the Atlantic, swept his beautiful black hair to the side.

"Are we filling up the petrol tank?" He asked Paul. Paul ducked out of the car, and ruffled his stepson's hair.

"Would you be willing to pay?"

"I- I haven't- I don't-"

"I'm joking, Perce," Paul pressed a few dollars into Percy's hand, "Go and get us something to eat though, your mother and I barely ate."

"Okay. But I need to use the restroom first."

Annabeth and Sally stood before the mirror, trying in vain to rub the sleep from their eyes. The looking glass was cracked and stained, so made it hard to see one's reflection with clarity. In all honesty, Annabeth was glad. She was thankful for an excuse not to have to look at her wan, haggard face of the early morning.

"Percy came over to your's yesterday?" Sally asked suddenly, a smile dancing on her countenance. Annabeth looked up from splashing water onto her face, and grinned back.

"Yep. Which was good because he came just in time to save me from dying of boredom. My dad found yesterday evening a fitting time to host a dull dinner party for his boss and some colleagues."

"He was adamant about coming to see you. I tried to tell him to wait until tomorrow - today - but he didn't listen. He missed you too much."

Annabeth smiled a small smile full of fondness and love for her boyfriend, trying to ignore the rising feeling of endearment and passion. "I missed him so much, to be honest. All the gods-damned time." She said, "it's just that, after all we've been through..." It suddenly struck her, that only with Sally, she would say this so naturally, without the fear of being judged. Only with Sally, Annabeth could so openly talk about this relationship with Percy. It made sense, she supposed. In those long eight months of Percy's disappearance, Annabeth had found herself at Sally's countless times a week, and over the months, she had grown to confide in Sally in the most personal matters. Together, the two woman had shed tears and consoled each other and held each other in a way no other would ever see. Not on Annabeth's part, anyway. Only Sally had seen her cry so freely; seen her shake and crack apart without the shame Annabeth bore at such times before her parents. And it too, had been Annabeth of whom Sally had first told of being pregnant. Before Paul. Before any of her friends. And that privilege would be one Annabeth would forever wear with pride. And so, unlike certain little brothers would have done, or a father and stepmother who would just laugh teasingly, Sally offered a sympathetic smile, and gave Annabeth a quick, one-armed hug.

Percy was waiting outside the restrooms. He leant lazily against the harsh metal railings, his eyes glimmering, his hair tousled almost elegantly in the breeze.

"There you are!" He exclaimed as Annabeth and Sally came out of the door, and onto the hard cement ground, "I thought you'd drowned in the toilet basin or something!"

Annabeth laughed, her voice carrying in the wind. All she really wanted to do was to wrap her arms round him and kiss the blithering idiot, but she couldn't. Not with his mother there.

"And how long where you waiting here, Seaweed Brain?"

"About thirty seconds."

Sally rolled her eyes. "That's typical you," she said to her son.

"I know," Percy replied, "Paul asked me to get you guys something to eat, but I didn't know what you wanted."

"I'm going to go and help Paul," Sally said, "Just buy some chocolate."

"That's a healthy breakfast," Percy countered. Sally smiled fondly at her son.

"Annabeth do you want to go with him?" She inquired.

Annabeth tried not to blush at what Sally's question may have entailed, and nodded. More than anything, she wanted that; just a few minutes with her boyfriend alone.

The service station shop smelled of kerosene, paint, and a suspicious odour, bearing a light resemblance to urine. Percy wrinkled his nose.

"Ew," he said. Annabeth too, shuddered, but took another step, further in, trying not to breathe in the hazardous stench too much. They really needed better ventilation in here.

"Hello, kids," exclaimed a booming voice, "What can I get ya?"

Annabeth looked up suddenly to see a large man, with round glasses and a fluorescent pink hat atop mousy brown hair, sitting at the counter. A large, friendly grin was plastered on his ruddy red face.

"Er," she said, biting her lip, "We're just browsing for now."

The man raised a hairy eyebrow. "Ya sure you ain't payin' for petrol?"

"No. My dad just paid," Percy said. 'Stepfather' was just too much of a mouthful. The man licked his dry lips, and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"That bloke what just came in?" As he talked, a spray of spit came from his mouth and pattered onto the floor. Percy gulped. He shrugged, and grabbed Annabeth's hand and towed her into the next aisle, clearly anxious to get away from the man at the counter.

"Where ya goin'?" The man called behind them.

"Browsing!"

It took all of five minutes to finally locate the chocolate bars. Annabeth's fingers were still wound around Percy's, and she was glad for their comforting warmth. Every now and then, he would squeeze her hand gently, and Annabeth's heart would go into a crazy bout of palpitations.

"Well," she asked, "What chocolate do Sally and Paul like?"

"Beats me," Percy said, and Annabeth couldn't help but notice that he shifted his weight slightly closer towards her. His shoulder, a few inches taller than her's, brushed against her body, setting Annabeth's nerves alight.

"What about Toblerone? Who doesn't like Toblerone?" Annabeth asked.

"Okay. Good choice."

"Do you not want anything?"

Percy grinned a conspirators smile. "Well now you mention it... would a kiss be too expensive?"

"Not if you rob it. Then it comes free," Annabeth tried to deadpan, but the powerful force that was love stole that mask. She eyed him in the corner of her vision, and grinned mischievously.

"And if I paid?" Percy pressed.

"Oh, I wouldn't charge you, don't worry."

"Well, that's a relief."

"Gods, Seaweed Brain. You're so soppy!" Annabeth rolled her eyes, and pressed a kiss against his lips. He returned it, laughing as his arms held her close to his chest. Annabeth wanted to laugh as well. Giddy; drunk on love. And if it weren't for the fact that they were in the middle of a shop, and parents waited outside, and a shopkeeper was staring-but-pretending-not-to, Annabeth knew they would have stayed like that much, much longer.

No one said anything as Percy and Annabeth returned to the Prius, hands clasped, bag of chocolate and drinks in Percy's free hand, rather a while later.

"Smelt terrible in there," Percy said as a manner of greeting.

"Tell me about it," Paul agreed. Percy yawned then, a yawn so wide he could probably have fitted the entire world in his mouth.

"How long's left till we get there?"

"About two hours,"

"Good because I'm-' yawn '-I'm going to-' Yawn again'-sleep."

That yawn was contagious like a deadly illness, and Annabeth was suddenly avidly aware of the heaviness of her head and the bleariness her eyes. She nodded, a nod perhaps in agreement with her boyfriend, or perhaps simply that head now felt like a ton of bricks.

"Me too," she said, her voice slightly slurred with a ravenous need for sleep.

In the car, Annabeth slumped against Percy, without even meaning to. Her head just lolled back against his shoulder, her hair cascading down his front. Dimly, she was aware of Percy too, sinking back against her, and as the car crawled out of the service station, its gentle rocking forced Annabeth's eyelids shut. A hand snaked its way protectively around her back, and a small smile that cared nothing of what what those in vicinity thought, blossomed on Annabeth's lips. And as Annabeth slipped into the enticing realms of her first untroubled sleep in a very long time, that smile stayed, as bright as a flower in a garden of weeds.

The slamming of a car door shook Annabeth from her slumber. She opened her eyes uncertainly, squinting against the noon light, slanting into the car. At her side, somebody stirred.

"Are we here?" Annabeth asked, her voice slurred from sleep. She shifted in her seat, and was met with the face of Percy. He too, was awake, though smiling sluggishly, as though he had not yet fully returned from the world of sleep. The glare of the sun made bars across his face, and his eyes - those beautiful, beautiful two oceans - glimmered.

"Morning?" He said.

"Afternoon, you mean. It's one." Paul said, "We're nearly there, Sally just wanted to take a photo."

"Oh, cool," Annabeth peered out of the window and what she saw resonated. somewhere within her. The calm, effulgent sea danced with light, resting somewhere below the precipice the car stood on. A building perched proud, too, on a headland some way off, bands of red and white adorning it's torso; a lighthouse. At its foot lay a scattering of rocks, their shadows playing in the sandy banks. Annabeth sucked in air.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Somebody said. Annabeth jumped, and found Percy grinning, in the seat her side. She smiled, and nodded, not wanting to speak, move, tear her eyes away from this spell-binding view. A little way ahead, Sally stood, with a camera angled. The sun made patterns on her chestnut hair; patterns that chased each other up and down like a cat and mouse. Here, with the glorious sun and the breathtaking landscape and waves far below, licking the shore and sliding away, one could pretend - Annabeth could pretend - that every nightmare and trek through hell and harrowing quest, had never happened. Here, with the window open, and the wind whispering serenades in one's ear, and the briny air gently rubbing at one's skin, one could imagine all their terror-inducing, perilous, horrifying experiences could fade away into the tranquil shroud of white mist.

A quarter of an hour later, the Prius drew up outside a cabin. Its façade was beautiful: rustic, dark wood walls, leaded windows, rust coloured door, a tiled pyramid of a roof, adorned with a red-brick chimney. The house looked right out onto a porcelain beach and the blanket of pristine blue sea that kissed it, so that the only sound was the occasional, excited cry of a gull. Smiling, Paul, led the way up to the veranda, and fumbled in his pockets for something. His hand came free, a set of old keys dangling from his pale fingers. Behind him, Sally bustled up the steps, one hand protectively over her swollen belly. Watching the mundane scene unfold, Annabeth and Percy waited in the vehicle few moments before moving, as though they could sit there forever, sharing with each other this sacred piece of time.

"Nice cabin," Annabeth said, though her voice came out as barely more than a whisper. A hint of a smirk - an endearing one, though - showed sudden colours on Percy's lips. His warm fingers curled their way around her's.

"I know," he breathed, "It always has been. Mom's in love with this place. This is where she met my father, in Montauk. And with Gabe, the weekends we spent here were the moments we looked forwards to the most."

Annabeth gave Percy's hand a tight squeeze. The touch of his calloused palm against hers sent shivers through her body.

"It's so beautiful," Annabeth murmured. Already, a ludicrous flight of fancy was working its way into her head. A daydream both of past and future: childhood summers spent licking ice cream and splashing in the sea, then perhaps, in the years to come, staying here during vacation, with an ever-burning sun in the hot summers, and a log fire during the chilly winters. And of course, a laughing boy - man - with a mop of black hair and a pair of the deepest green eyes.

"Are you going to stay there all day!?" Sally called, from where the pine wood door was slowly swinging open. Peeling pastel blue paint came off on her hand as she withdrew her fingers. Percy laughed softly.

"Admiring the view," he told his mother, "coming now."

"Quick, or I'll lock you in the car."

"Alright, alright!" With a fiendish grin, that in no way suited the alarmed expression on his face, Percy flung the door open and scampered out of the car, dragging Annabeth behind him. Fifteen away, Sally grinned. As Percy struggled with the boot, and pulling out cases, Annabeth scanned the horizon. Her gaze wandered over to a boardwalk a couple of miles away in the distance. It was ensconced by nothing but sand dunes and a quiescent sea, and even at this far off vantage point, Annabeth could make out the shadows of people. A couple stood by the railings, kissing, and at a small stall, a family of five was engaged in a rapturous conversation. A sort of pang seared through Annabeth's body. It ached with longing: for that safety, for that comfort and for that quiet peaceful life she would never have.

"Wise Girl," Percy complained suddenly, juggling three suitcases in his hands, "A little help?" Annabeth turned towards that beautiful face, and that pain dulled suddenly. Then deserted her completely. A small smile gave fruit on Annabeth's lips. Because whilst she may not have such a life, in a tranquil little town by the sea; that life of bland mortal obliviousness she yearned for, she did have a million stars to live for. And the brightest star of all - Percy - she knew she would never exchange. Not for any shard of that basic mortal life she had always coveted so.

Annabeth gently took her suitcase from her boyfriend's hand, and thanked him as she meandered up to the path, to the house. Sally and Paul had already disappeared through the open door, and the sounds of movement inside was faintly audible. Tentatively, feeling almost unwelcome, Annabeth pushed the door open a little wider, and stepped over the threshold into the foyer. Her suitcase trailed behind her, clacking up the doorsteps. Annabeth halted, and stared about herself. Inside, she found a beam spreading across her face. The house was more of a bungalow, really. It was tastefully designed, with a low ceiling that overshadowed a small lounge, with two black leather sofas, and a low coffee table. At the end of the room was a wide doorway, so that Annabeth could see a kitchen inside, and on her right, two doors led presumably to bedrooms or a bathroom.

"Is everything out of the car?" Sally called from the depths of the house. Glancing back behind her, Annabeth saw Percy heading up the path.

"Yeah!" He answered.

"And is it locked?"

"I just checked- yes."

"Okay. That's good."

Percy mounted the steps elegantly, and strode into the house besides Annabeth. He paused, one hand braced on a sofa, the other grasping the handle of his suitcase.

"Mom," he called, "can we go swimming?"

Sally bustled into the light, from one of the doors on the right-hand side. The contours of her face creased into a slight frown.

"Already?" She chastised her son, "you haven't even been in the house thirty seconds. At least unpack first," Sally inclined her head slightly, and added, "Annabeth, do you want to sleep on the couch, or on a mattress on the floor in Percy's room?" In that sole breath of an instant, Annabeth felt as if she were being thrust headlong into the spotlight.

"Uh..." she began uncertainly. Sure, more than anything she wanted to sleep in Percy's bedroom, the beckon of a peaceful, undisturbed sleep was so close, so tantalising. Yet Annabeth didn't feel entirely comfortable telling Sally she wanted to sleep in her lover's room with him. She didn't want to sound desperate, or perhaps even eager. It was rather hard to put these feelings into words; rather awkward, as if one were going: 'Right, sure I'll sleep in my boyfriend's bedroom, yes. No problem on behalf of my trusting parents, none at all. Of course not.' With a somewhat sarcastic tone. Sally, however, seemed to sense her unease, and laughed quietly.

"It's fine. Go ahead and sleep in Percy's room," she smiled, the light caressing her kindly features, "But I can't help make the bed," she put a protective hand on her swollen belly. Percy rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"I can make it," he said, "Then I think going to nap some more." He yawned once more, wound his fingers through Annabeth's, then gently tugged her towards the kitchen. "But of course," he said, "food first."


	50. Chapter 50

"Annabeth!" Someone called. Looking up from laying down the mattress on Percy's bedroom floor, Annabeth frowned.

"Yes?"

There was the sound of heavy footfalls, and Sally waddled, smiling, into the light of the empty doorway. In her hand she grasped a cell phone, which she held out to Annabeth.

"It's your dad."

"My dad?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," Annabeth took the mobile, and held it tentatively to her ear, almost nervous, as though it would gnash its teeth and bite out like a feral beast.

"Hey, honey!" Came a bright voice on the other end, "how are you doing?"

"Er," Annabeth reached in her mind for something to say in answer to her father, "I'm good. Why are you ringing?"

"Was that wrong?" Frederick replied tartly.

"What? No. Course not."

"Alright. Just wanted to see how you were. Do you have everything?"

"It's been four hours."

"Do you have everything?" Her father pressed. Though Frederick could not see, Annabeth shrugged.

"Hope so. Anyway, I have to go."

"Alright, fine, if you don't want to speak to your father. See you later, Annabeth, have a nice trip."

"Thanks. Bye - wait. Make sure Bobby and Matthew don't use my computer."

Frederick chuckled on the other end of the line.

"I'll try. Bye."

"Bye."

There was a resounding beep as Annabeth hung up, and passed the phone back to Sally, smiling her thanks.

"All good?" Percy asked, reclined on his bed. Annabeth nodded. For her part though, Sally frowned.

"Is everything all right between you and your dad?" She inquired. Annabeth smiled tiredly, looking up at the elder woman.

"Yeah," she confirmed, "it's good. I just... I don't know, I just don't want him ringing me every five minutes. I guess."

"He is your father."

"Yeah, I know."

Sally offered a small twitch of the lips, then said, "I'm gonna go and unpack."

"Do you need help?" Annabeth asked. Sally dismissed this with a wave of her hand and a kind smile.

"I'm all good, but thanks"

"Alright."

Between them, Percy and Annabeth managed to successfully put together Annabeth's bed, despite the harrowing fatigue weighing down on each of them. Once they were done, Percy threw himself down on his bed and yawned widely.

"I'm tired," he complained.

"Me too." Annabeth agreed. She picked herself up off the floor, and lay down on the covers besides her boyfriend, biting back the grin creeping onto her lips. The shafts of light filtering in through the window cast shadows on the wall, and Annabeth's eyes chased them up and down, relishing in the beautiful patterns they created. As she traced their path, her eye caught on the mirror. In the reflection of the glass, Annabeth could see the image of the room she was in staring back at her. Already, it was rather messy. Suitcases and bags marred the pristine polished wooden planks of the floor, and an assortment of textbooks, paper and two cell phones sat innocently on the desk. At her side, Annabeth felt warm fingers curl around her's.

"I think I'm gonna go to sleep," Percy mumbled. Annabeth turned her head to look at him, and frowned.

"I thought you wanted to go swimming?"

"Uh, in an hour. Two."

"Suits me just fine," Annabeth murmured. Her voice was slurred slightly, still ravenous for rest, despite that slumber in the the car. So Annabeth, deciding to succumb to the merciless talons of sleep, rolled onto her side and shut her eyes. She felt someone curl up besides her, and warm arms wrap around her torso, holding her close. Wether those hands around her were for warmth or comfort or simply affection, Annabeth did not know. But she arched into them, glad for the body heat cleaving the winter chill, and smiled.

Presently, the sound of Percy snoring softly, filled the air. The noise was like the steady beat of one's heart. In fact, if Annabeth listened hard enough, the steady thumping of Percy's own heart was faintly audible against the cage of his ribs. It was consistent and calming. Like the soft waves of the summer sea tumbling down onto the sandy beach, or the incessant rhythm in a favourite song. Annabeth forced herself to breath in sync with the relentless beats, so that she and Percy became almost one. The exercise sapped the marginal amount of energy she had left, lulling her into a hazy mindset were nothing that crossed her mind made sense. So with this to pull her under, Annabeth smiled, nestled closer against her boyfriend, and allowed herself to fall into the realms of her dreams. But this time, they appealed. This time, her dreams inhabited the body of something kind and sweet, rather than the ruthless beasts they preferred so much more.

 _Dimly, Annabeth ... aware... hushed voices._

 _Sometime... there was... clutter of..._

 _A... chirrup pierced the... of..._

 _...Soughing...the wind._

 _"Are they still asleep?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Let them."_

 _"Poor children."_

 _"Still?"_

 _"-Love."_

 _"That and..."_

 _"-Time is it?"_

 _"Late."_

It was a long time before Percy and Annabeth eventually woke. Only several hours later, did Annabeth finally find herself with her eyes open, staring about the bedroom trying to place were she was. Ah yes, in Montauk, lying... lying besides Percy on an unfamiliar bed. Sometime in the past stretch of hours, a quilt had been draped over them - so Annabeth discovered as she propped herself up on her elbows, and made to push herself of the bed - and the warmth it gave off made Annabeth want to melt right into it. There was an incoherent mumble at her side, and she turned.

"What time is it?" Percy murmured into a pillow. Annabeth shrugged, and sank back down into the covers; sought for his hand. A small smile broke onto his mouth, and he pressed closer to her. Annabeth bit her lip, as a tremor passed through her body. She wanted to hug him close and closer and closer. To not let go, and just sleep away all those hours of slumber she had missed. She wanted to kiss him, too. Kiss him until her body tingled with a thousand nerves set alight. In fact nothing was stopping her-

The door creaked open.

"Are you awake now?" Paul asked, bustling in. Bleary eyed, Percy and Annabeth raised their heads and nodded in unison.

"Its eight in the evening, so don't blame me when your sleeping schedule is completely distorted."

"I'm a teenager," Percy stated, "my sleep schedule is always messed up."

Paul pointed a finger at his stepson.

"You have a speech to write," he said, "for Grover's wedding. You need to find the time."

"Ugh." Percy sighed somewhat dramatically, and burrowed back into the bed. Leaning against the doorframe, Paul laughed.

"Do you guys want to go out to dinner tonight, or should we eat here? If you plan on moving at all from that bed."

"Er," Annabeth looked to Percy for a response. The son of Poseidon beamed.

"We can eat out? That'd be great. I mean, if it's no trouble."

"What do you want to do, Annabeth?" Paul asked. Annabeth became suddenly acutely aware of the awkward circumstances, and blushed. She supposed it must look a bit strange to Paul. Not in anyway that was, quite frankly, sexual, but just the image of the two children curled around each other, sleeping for all their worth. Maybe it was slightly rude, on her part too. She was a guest, after all, and most guests didn't have curling up besides their boyfriend and sleeping for hours, top of their bucket list as the first thing to do on vacation. Not after an only three hour car ride, anyway.

"I don't mind," Annabeth said, heaving herself upright, "whatever suits you, I guess."

"We'll go out to dinner then," Paul affirmed, "It's too much of a hassle to cook as well."

Sally came in then, and observed the scene with an amused glimmer in her eye.

"So what's been decided?" She asked.

"We'll go out to eat," Paul told his wife, "Maybe that pizza place. You like pizza don't you Annabeth?"

"I'd be crazy not to - I love pizza."

Percy laughed quietly into the cushion, then turned, sliding himself up in haste. He let out a small, startled little noise, no doubt as to the dizziness he had surely just succumbed to.

"You okay?" Annabeth asked, squeezing his hand beneath the cover of the blanket.

"Yeah. Just a little nausea. We should get out of bed."

"Yeah. I'm going to get dressed into a fresh pair of clothes and - gods-dammit it's freezing."

"We'll just have to grin and bear it," Percy grimaced as he ripped the quilt off. Sally chuckled, and jabbed over her shoulder with her arm.

"I'm going to go and change, too, we'll leave in half an hour."

"Alright," Percy said through chattering teeth.

Annabeth knocked on the door of Percy's room in quick succession. She was dressed now, having done so in the bathroom, and felt considerably warmer in her parka and hat.

"Yeah, come in," a muffled voice on the other side said. Annabeth pushed open the door and came in to see Percy tugging on his jacket. He grinned at her, throwing up his hood.

"Nice coat," he said.

"Is that an attempt at small talk?"

"No, it me genuinely complimenting your outfit."

"Why, thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

Percy smiled in mock grudgingness. He crossed the room in a few short strides, and came to a pause besides Annabeth.

"Is that the highest praise I'm gonna get?"

Annabeth twitched her lips. In all honesty, Percy looked stunning. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of saying that. Instead, Annabeth simply drew herself up and pressed a quick kiss his lips. Well, her intention had been for it to be quick. Instead, Percy laughed, and pulled her tight against him. A delicious warmth washed over Annabeth's body. Percy's arms held her close, gentle yet strong, wrapping her up in an embrace of passion. When they finally broke apart, Annabeth looked up at him.

"Does that answer your question?"

Percy didn't say anything, only pulled her into him again, and kissed her again. He let her go with a mischievous smile on his countenance.

"That I'm beautiful? Yes, it does."

"Idiot."

The walk to the pizzeria was beautiful, and almost ethereal. As the party traipsed along the surf of the beach, shoes dangling in one hand, the other surreptitiously grasping a lover's, the briny air was crisp and sharp, digging mercilessly into the seldom patches of each person's exposed flesh. The night was Stygian black, contrasted only by a a smattering of stars that brought it to life, and this pitch dark sky fused together with the inky sea somewhere in the hazy horizon. Percy and Annabeth walked slightly behind the adults, basking in the serenity of the breathtaking night. Though it was chilly, from the place where their fingers linked, a perpetual warmth spread through Annabeth's body, and beneath her toes, the sand was soft, the wind running its elegant fingers through her hair with almost feline grace. There no sound, save for the murmur of the waves, the sighing of the wind and the scraping of stars across the sky.

"This is magical," Annabeth breathed. Somewhere far, far ahead, the lighthouse stood haughtily, its powerful beam purging the land of shadows. For fleeting seconds, the rocks at its foot would be illuminated, jagged like teeth, and then the shaft would sweep on, nibbling away at the dark landscape. Percy squeezed her hand tighter.

"I know," he whispered, as though afraid a voice an octave louder would pierce through the calm glamour the night had cast. Percy glanced up to the sky, his gaze combing the stars, and the constellations: A familiar centaur, a ruthless giant of a hunter, a girl shooting arrows across the embellished black blanket.

"I know," he repeated. Annabeth waited for him to say something more, but all that followed was an empty, powerful silence.

The pizzeria was bubbling with laughter and merry exchanges, that were audible from two blocks away. When they finally drew up before it, Sally opened the door, and an alluring heat billowed out of the shop and into the moonlit streets. Desperate for that little sliver of warmth to pick them up in gentle arms, the group bundled into the foyer in a tangle of limbs.

No sooner had they crowded into entrance hall, a flustered waiter was upon them. He greeted the Jacksons - and Annabeth - pushing his hair backwards with one hand, and beckoned for them to follow, weaving through the throngs, combating them with practised ease. Only Annabeth could match the perfect grace of the waiter, moving like a current in a stream through the crowds. Near the back of the shop, he indicated to a square table accommodating five, and was gone without preamble. Percy was first to react. Letting out a contented sigh as he slid into his seat, he picked up the menu, and began to leaf through it, as rabidly as one might devour a good book. Annabeth peered over his shoulder, scanning the options too.

"What do you want to eat?" Percy asked her.

"Olive pizza, I guess - as usual."

"Why do you love olives so much?" Percy glanced up at her, his eyes laughing, bright as candles. Annabeth snorted.

"I think it's inherent," she laughed. Her companions all chuckled softly. The amusement of a group who were not obtuse to not understand the pains of the joke, but knew also they were welcome to laugh, as such comment had been jovial and light-hearted.

"Well, while you may love olives," Percy said, "I can assure you that I do not enjoy eating horses."

Annabeth smiled sidelong at him, trying to repress the giggle tickling her throat.

"You know some people do eat horse, right?" She said. Percy looked surprised, then that expression fell away, giving a wide berth to mild horror.

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"That's cruel."

"It's just as cruel as eating the pepperoni you are about to devour."

"Touché."

Five minutes later, a waitress tottered over to them.

"May I take your orders?" She asked in a light Italian accent. Sally smiled, and placed the menu delicately in the centre of the trestle table.

"Yes please. Um," she turned to Paul and frowned slightly,"Do you want Margherita?"

Paul nodded, his lips upturned.

"Okay, er," Sally said. "That would be, one Margherita, two Pepperonis, and an olive pizza, please."

The waitress took note meticulously, then said curtly, "And to drink?"

"Oh," Sally flitted her eyes to her husband, then back to waitress, "We'll share a bottle of wine, whatever you recommend. And Percy, Annabeth-?"

Percy leaned forwards slightly, "Could I have a Coke please. Annabeth, do you want that too?"

"Uh," Annabeth began, "yeah. Thank you."

There was the sound of pencil scratching on paper, and with a sweep of an arm, the waitress gathered up the menus. She nodded once, then stalked away, back through the maelstrom of noise and rapturous conversations.

The clicking of heels cut through Percy and Annabeth's conversation. The waitress was returning, juggling in her arms the pizzas.

"Enjoy," she said as she lay the food down, but her voice held no emotion, as though this was just routine. Which, Annabeth supposed, it was: 'Take order. Give it to kitchen. Bring meal to table. "Enjoy." Back through the sea of people. And repeat.' It must get very tedious after the whole day spent doing the same thing. That same routine over and over so that soon it would become just a monotonous buzz in one's life. Annabeth almost felt sorry for the waitress as she watched her retreat back to carry out this uneventful task again.

Promptly, Percy began to guzzle his soda. He still looked slightly tired, despite their long sleep. Beneath her lashes, Annabeth watched him furtively. He was beautiful, even now, going about the meagre path of necking a drink. The moonlight coming in from the skylights kissed his face, accentuating his jawline, that reached up to the curve of his ear. His lashes hung over sparkling green eyes, and his lips, pressed over the rim of the glass, seemed suddenly unfamiliar, and so tempting.

Annabeth was shaken from her stupor, when somebody's hand passed her the pizza wheel. She looked quickly away from her boyfriend, and took the cutter, smiling her thanks. For a breath of a moment, Annabeth ran the wheel absentmindedly over her napkin. As though she could scratch away any hidden words the cloth may contain. Then, swiftly, she cleaved the pizza in half, then another half, then another. Once she was done, she slipped it to Percy, and tried as hard as she could, to not get distracted by his calloused hands as he cut the pizza with an entrancing sort of expertise.

As per usual, the first bite of pizza was the first bite of heaven. Annabeth took a chunk out of it, taking pleasure in the way the chilli oil tickled her tonsils, and the cheese filled her mouth. At her side, Percy did the same.

"Wow," he said through a mouthful of sourdough, tomato, cheese and pepperoni. Annabeth nodded in agreement, and took a swig of her beverage.

"Had a nice Christmas?" Paul asked her suddenly. Putting her glass back down on the table, Annabeth frowned slightly.

"It was alright," beneath the table, she squeezed Percy's hand, "Percy's present was great. Oh yeah, that reminds me. I brought gifts for you all."

Paul blinked, and smiled broadly. "You shouldn't have," he teased, "but thank you so much!"

Annabeth waved her fork - why they had forks in a pizzeria she did not know - in the air casually. "It was the least I could do. And did you have a good Christmas?"

"Yes," Sally put in, her lips creeping upwards, "it was very lazy. Spent sitting around the hearth, drinking egg nog."

Annabeth had a sudden image of Hestia, goddess of hearth and home, and felt her bones warm pleasantly.

"I'm jealous," she sighed. Percy laughed quietly, and took another bite of pizza.

"It was boring," he assured her, "Mom took my phone, saying 'Christmas is family time.' I had to revert to losing at scrabble with Paul. Yeah, I missed you a lot, too."

"Well don't make me feel guilty for not being there," Annabeth laughed, "I missed you as well."

Percy grinned into his glass, the tips of his ears coloured a not-so-subtle shade of puce. He lifted it to his lips, and as Annabeth watched demurely, beneath her lashes, she thought he might drink, drink such a mundane thing as soda, so that he could drown in his deluge of emotions, and hold them tight. Or perhaps that was a ridiculous thing to say, on the account of Percy being a son of Poseidon and therefore unable drown. Percy looked up to find her staring at him, and raised his brows inquisitively. It was Annabeth's turn to blush, turning back to her food in the hope it would cover the fierce red of her face. There was a slight laugh, and Annabeth glanced up to see Sally, chuckling as she looked between them. Then it was both their turns to flush as scarlet as a fire.

"Right," Paul brushed a few crumbs off his lap, and looked to his family, "shall we ask for the bill?" He raised his hand, and signalled to the waitress, who pouted, nodded slightly and disappeared back into the depth of the shop. Annabeth's eyes followed her path, then shifted, landing again on Percy. He leant back against his chair, a satisfied smile creeping up his face. And Hades, he looked beautiful, so beautiful it were as if he were Eros himself. Like an angel or a god or the delicious vibrance of a sunset sky. In this light, his eyes were almost opalescent, alternating between hues of sea green and rich blues. Annabeth's breath caught in her throat. And here, though they were surrounded by the music and the voices and hundreds of bodies packed against each other like sardines, it seemed to Annabeth that it was only she and Percy. Everyone else... infinitesimal, insignificant; melted into a hazy mist around them. Vaguely, she was aware of a warm hand wrapping around her's. A familiar, warm hand. It squeezed her fingers. Again. Again. Squeezed them just enough times so that it became like the constant rhythm of a heart beat. Squeezed them so that she was reminded of just how much she loved him. And Annabeth was drowning then. Suffocating as love wrapped its tentacles around her, held her close. An arm snaked around her shoulders, tugging her against a warm body. A voice was laughing, rumbling, thunder over head. A gorgeous chuckle that had seen so much and heard so much and lived so much. And if it were possible, Annabeth wanted to reach out and embrace that silken laugh: clutch it to her chest and never let go. So that in those frequent times of darkness, she could be reminded over and over of that boy and that heart and that soul that made even the bleakest of lives worth living.

"Annabeth?"

Like glass, Annabeth's thoughts were shattered. Her reverie broke, falling and scattering across the ground.

"Are you okay?" Sally asked, peering worriedly through her lashes, "You've gone very pale."

Annabeth blinked, the fall back to earth jarring her bones. She forced a smile, and pushed back a strand of blonde hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, steadying her voice, "just got a little distracted."

"Do you need some water?"

Annabeth rubbed her eyes, and stifled a yawn. She shook her head slightly.

"No, it's fine. Don't worry."

The cool chill of the winter night was an embrace after the choking heat of the pizzeria. Annabeth stepped out onto the sidewalk and took a deep breath. Her thoughts had cleared now, the mist which had caused her to suffocate in the reckless grip of love had lifted, and she found herself grinning against the mellow moonlight glow. Instinctively, Annabeth reached subtly for Percy's hand. He took it, pressing close against her.

"Alright?" He whispered. Annabeth nodded, and smiled into the darkness.

"Fine- you?"

"Good."

"Good."

Percy tugged on her hand, and they followed Sally and Paul across the road, to the strip of beach hemming the coast.

As Annabeth walked, she felt the stars' burning gaze upon her. At her side, Percy kicked up sea spray, laughing delightedly as he shaped it into breathtaking images that caught in the porcelain moonlit light. A dolphin first, cutting through the air, then a fish slashing at the darkness, a whale, a bird. Annabeth beamed, her eyes glistening in amusement.

"Isn't that draining?" She asked. Percy let his galloping horse fall to sand, and looked up, chuckling.

"Nah, not really," he said. The droplets of water rose again, morphing now into a dancing couple. Annabeth watched, mesmerised. Before her, the couple waltzed, spinning around each other with flawless grace.

"I wish I could do that," Annabeth whispered wistfully. Frowning, Percy glanced up at her.

"It's just water," he breathed, "it doesn't accomplish much, being able to make a pretty shape out of sea spray..."

"Yes, but everyone else has cool powers, water and air and fire and charmspeaking and-"

"-hey!" Percy protested, "you led us all through the whole damned mess of that quest. We wouldn't have been able to accomplish a gods-forsaken thing without your brains." He tapped her on the head lightly, and laughed quietly, "Brains of the operation, right?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. She stared fascinated, as the one of the dancing figures dipped the other. Percy furrowed his brow, and the couple became more detailed. A billowing gown swirled its way around one figure, and on the other a long cloak blossomed in the shadows. Percy allowed them to dance and dance their way through the air, until they crept onto Annabeth's shoulder. She laughed with childish glee. The couple began spinning down her arm, their light feet tickling, sending pleasant shivers up her body. Percy too, was chortling. He let the figures waltz down to her hand, then leap into an iridescent ribbon of water, that snaked its way around her body like a dog after its own tail.

"Percy!?" Cried a voice, "Annabeth!?"

"Huh?" The pair looked up sharply, the string of water arced down to the ground.

"Hurry up!"

"Right, coming!" Percy called back.

In her pyjamas, Annabeth lay idly on her mattress, inhaling her book. Somebody knocked quietly on the door.

"Decent?" Percy whispered.

"Yeah," Annabeth mumbled back, aware of the fatigue dragging her down. The door creaked open, and Percy stumbled in, clearly exhausted. His hand fumbled blindly on the wall, until he found the light switch. There was a click as he pressed it, and the room was flooded in instant darkness.

"Don't fall on me please, as you trip your way back to your bed," Annabeth laughed from the floor, placing her book besides her.

"Mm, I'll try," Percy murmured, the smile audible in his voice. Tentatively, Annabeth watched the dark silhouette make his way to his berth. The bed groaned as he eased himself down.

"Tired?" Annabeth asked.

"I have a lot of sleep to catch up on."

"Likewise."

Percy yawned, and seemed to be about to lie back on his bed, when he seemed to change his mind. He propped himself up again, and lifted himself from his bunk. Annabeth's brow creased.

"Perce? Okay?"

"Yeah, I just-"

Percy crouched down, and suddenly, his green eyes were before her, gleaming in the shaft of starlight coming in from the window. Somewhere in the distance, a car hummed its way down the road. "-forgot to say goodnight," he finished. An endearing smile flickered on his countenance. Not allowing him the satisfaction of being first, Annabeth hooked an arm around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. He hugged her tight, as though fighting to keep her, him and this shattering world together. To keep it from melting in the heat of this kiss. When they broke apart, a beam of moonlight cast onto Percy's lips, revealing a broad smile.

"Goodnight," Annabeth purred. A mischievous twinkle gave sudden fruit in Percy's eyes. He leant forwards and allowed himself to kiss her again. Initially, Annabeth made a small sound of protest, but then relented. She leaned into his warmth, let herself be taken again by this kiss; shivered, painstakingly aware of Percy's cool hands, braced on her bare arms. Annabeth was not sure for how long the second kiss lasted, only that when they finally came apart, Percy smothered a giggle.

"I wanted the honour of kissing you first," he breathed. Annabeth sighed in mock exasperation. She watched him climb back into his bed, as he turned and let the sheets wrap around him like a snare. Then a hand fell purposefully from the mattress, and Annabeth curled her fingers around it as she she into that peaceful, glorious slumber she had so coveted.


	51. Chapter 51

Disclaimer: Gonna cut to the Chase real quick and say I don't own any of the extensive list of works by Rick Riordan. Maybe someday...

Annabeth woke to ribbons of light, snaking their way in through the half-closed blinds. For a few moments, she just lay there, blinking, trying to adjust to the blinding early morning glare. A small smile crept up her lips, as she recalled where she was. In Montauk. Here, hands linked with Percy's. Rested and rejuvenated after a good nights sleep. A creak of a mattress made her turn.

"Wise Girl? Good morning." A husky voice murmured. Percy's eyes were open, his hair matted in a curtain over his forehead. Annabeth yawned, and took her fingers gently from Percy's, raking them down her tangled hair.

"Morning." She breathed; breathed, because at that time, she could not manage a sound any louder, "Do you know the time?"

"Mm," Percy propped himself up on his shoulders and squinted at his watch, "Twenty five past ten." He said. Then, like a bloodhound, turned his nose up and sniffed ravenously at the air.

"I smell pancakes," he mumbled, "I want pancakes."

Annabeth laughed, and hit him with her pillow. "You always want pancakes!"

Smiling, Percy swung his legs off his bed, and stood shakily. He extended a hand to his girlfriend, which she took, and rose alongside him. For a moment, they just stood there in the middle of the room, heavily conscious of their closeness, of their linked fingers, of how when one breathed, they could feel the currents of air shift like the one's of a river. Annabeth's heart picked up speed, as always. There was a shard of a moment where the world seemed to freeze. Then, before Annabeth knew it, there was somebody kissing her, and holding her tight. In that instance, the light shifted, and danced onto Annabeth's side, warming her skin, highlighting the place where she and Percy's lips touched with a careful, calculated sort of fire. There was a sudden rumble, as Percy's stomach growled, and Percy and Annabeth broke apart, lips twitching in suppressed laughter. He tugged lightly on her arm, and smiled lazily.

"Let's go and get breakfast."

"Morning guys!" Paul's jovial voice extended from the oven, to Percy and Annabeth at the kitchen door, "Want pancakes?"

He hummed to himself and he poured batter into a pan, and Annabeth found herself smiling.

"Good morning - yes please," she said, following Percy to the dining table, where Sally was already wolfing down a syrup-laden pancake.

"Morning mom," Percy laughed, reaching over for a glass of orange juice. Sally swallowed the last of her breakfast, and smiled fondly at her son.

"Good morning sweetheart, sleep well?"

"Yep." Percy took a swig of his beverage, and put the glass down with a thump. Looking up at him, Annabeth smothered a laugh.

"Nice orange moustache," she snorted.

"Why thank you very much. What beautiful orange hair highlights you have."

"What the-" Annabeth raked a hand brought her blonde mane, only to find the ends sticky, stained with juice. She began to laugh again. "Looks better than your moustache."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too."

Glancing between them, Sally rolled her eyes, though in the maternal manner, of a mother who finds the antics of her children both sweet and annoying in equal measures. Or perhaps it was that she found their slightly sappy behaviour a little ridiculous, as the likes of Clarisse had so often made a point of mentioning.

There was a clatter as Paul slid a plate laden with pancakes down on the table. Immediately, Percy's hands were a blur, reaching for the top one, and bringing it back to his plate with a 'thump.'

Annabeth blinked.

"That was quick," she observed.

"Hunger makes you do powerful things," Percy replied, spreading a large quantity of syrup on the surface of his breakfast. He tapped his head, and said, "Words of wisdom, those are. Could be taken right from the mouth of your mother."

Annabeth laughed, deciding not to reprimand him against the dangers of comparing oneself to a goddess. The gods could deal with it. "Calm down down with the syrup - you're drowning your pancakes in it," she opted to say. Percy made a contradictory noise in the back of his throat.

"I told you a few months ago," he laughed, though without the contempt his words could so easily have conveyed, "that as a son of Poseidon, I can't drown and neither can my pancakes."

"No," Sally put in, "But your teeth can still rot away."

Annabeth dug her elbow into his rib, as she carefully reached for some breakfast.

"Exactly."

Percy elbowed her in return, and Annabeth spluttered.

"Oy," she protested, punching him on the arm, lightly enough that it didn't hurt, but hard enough so that he choked on his drink. Percy began to guffaw, rocking backward and forwards, almost as if he were drunk on a little bit of banter. His scarred, beautiful hands closed around Annabeth's, possibly desperate for that little piece of her that held him together when he fell apart through either ebullience or sadness, or just simply to stop her from punching him again. Annabeth found herself in a strange cross between a sigh of endeared irritation, and a bout of asphyxiating giggles that rose in her throat and dug furiously at her jugular. She squeezed his hand, and rolled her eyes, as Sally had done before.

"I think we may be drunk on too much sleep."

"Possibly," Percy gasped.

In the safe recluse of the bathroom, Annabeth pulled a long shirt over her swimming costume, and slipped into a pair of flip flops. She smiled at her reflection, ignoring the stark scars emblazoned on her skin, and peered closer at her eyes. They seemed to be...healed. In the way that whilst they so often had that cracked, haggard aspect, today they appeared not like a storm, but like the silver lining of one rain cloud. One rain cloud, because that meant that with the rain there would be sun. And that meant a rainbow. A promise of vibrance and beautiful colours and unsung - now sung - joy. Annabeth glanced away from the looking glass, basking in the jubilance building up inside of her. She braced a hand on the polished door knob, turned it, and padded back out into the lounge. Sally and Paul were nowhere to be seen, but Percy, clad in swim shorts and a tank top that (admittedly) made him look particularly fetching, sat on the sofa, absentmindedly leading through an old SATs science book. Taking a seat besides him, Annabeth frowned, looking over at the pages, which were dictating the several uses of stem cells.

"Hello," Percy said, pressing close against her. Annabeth grunted in acknowledgment, and signalled to the book.

"That's wrong," she said, indicating to where an unfamiliar scrawl that had dictated that Meiosis and Mitosis where the same thing.

"What is?"

"That note there, that someone's made."

Percy squinted at it. "It is? This book has been passed down through so many different students, I'm not sure what to trust anymore.

Sighing, Annabeth took the book. "I'll tell you so - What notes are correct. For starters, Meiosis and Mitosis are different. Simply: Meiosis is in the sex cells, where chromosomes in the parent cells are reduced by half, and produce four gamete cells. Mitosis is the reproduction of chromosomes in other cells. It produces two daughter cells."

"Right."

Annabeth flipped through the book, studying the annotations students had penned in over the course of the past decade. It took no more than five minutes, as they awaited Sally and Paul, for her to correct each mistake, add on information to those explanations she deemed too simplistic, and hand the textbook back to an gawking Percy.

"How do you know all that?" He whispered. Annabeth shrugged, and bit her lip.

"I love you," Percy laughed breathily, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

The beach was conveniently near the house. Five steps from the front door, and there you were, with sand tickling the sole of your foot and brine tingling your face. Percy smiled into the delicious embrace of the wind. At his side, Annabeth did too. Taking pleasure in the way that the light breeze rolled in from the sea, and wrapped its subjects in a blanket. It was strange to think, that this such beach they were on, wound right around the coast of Long Island, and possibly up to their own one - Percy and Annabeth's - at camp. Tentatively, Annabeth took another step towards where Paul was helping Sally down onto a beach towel. Sally smiled as she lay down, her eyes closed, the sun caressing her face.

"Are you not coming swimming, mom?" Percy called over. In answer, Sally waved a hand dismissively.

"Maybe later," she said. Percy nodded, and gripped Annabeth's hand.

"You are coming, right?"

"Yep. Even though it's freezing, I'll come."

"Awesome."

Percy laughed slightly, and made his way over to his parents, pulling his top off as he went. Annabeth followed suite, though with substantially less nonchalance; a little embarrassed at standing in nothing but a two-piece swimsuit. Despite the early morning sun, the winter chill dug at her bare skin like a blade. Annabeth looked over to Percy, who's teeth were chattering, knocking together like a rattle. He hugged his arms around his muscular torso (Of course Annabeth wasn't looking!) and shot her a coy smile.

"Coming?" He asked.

The water caressed Annabeth's thighs like tender hands. Cold tender hands. She shivered shamelessly, watching Percy in her peripheral vision. He too, seemed cold, but to him, such a detail was minor when it came to water. He turned to face her, and his eyes flashed daringly.

"Dive into the next wave?"

"Ha, ha" Annabeth responded, wading further into the icy water, "You're hilarious."

About twenty yards away, a small mound, indicating the beginnings of a wave, began to grow. Annabeth watched warily, as the bump grew in size until it became an ominous mountain rolling towards them. She held her breath, as it rose before her, and took her in its arms. Floating atop it, the briny water reached up to her throat, sending an array of shivers coursing up her body. Somewhere ahead, a familiar black mop of hair resurfaced, grinning. Percy shook his head like a wet dog.

"It's not bad once you're in!" He yelled over the roar of the crashing waves.

"Speak for yourself, son of Poseidon!"

There was a small stirring in the water, as if the god were acknowledging Annabeth's mention of him. She took a breath, and forced herself further into the sea. A cool hand suddenly slipped into her's. Percy tugged her arm.

"Next wave," he whispered into her ear. Annabeth groaned in quiet frustration, and squeezed his hand.

"Fine."

"That's, not now, just about... now."

As the wave came before her, Annabeth ducked, and allowed the cool blanket of sea to pull her under. For a breath of a second, she found time frozen. The opalescent water rushed over her head, and Annabeth relished in that instant of raw, unconditional joy. Here, where reality was muffled and unimportant. Here, where Annabeth longed for nothing more than to pull Percy down besides her, and stay here forever, pulling the wool over her eyes. Here, where she was suddenly hit by how hard it must have been for Percy, when Juno offered him to either go to Camp Jupiter, or take his girlfriend and disappear into the sea forever. Percy had declined the latter offer. But the scary thing was, that if she were faced with such an option - to vanish into the depths of the ocean with Percy and never return - Annabeth was not sure what she would have chosen.

Annabeth resurfaced, grinning. She had not realised she had swam at all, underwater, but now found herself several feet away from Percy, who was making his way over to her.

"Cold?" He asked.

"A little."

Percy reached her, and suddenly, arms were placed right around her hips, and she was being pulled tight against a familiar body. Annabeth laughed, looking out to the beach where Sally and Paul lay on the sand, eyes closed, the sun playing on their faces. Then someone was kissing her. Kissing her deeply, with a type of passion that could raze the world to the ground or lift it up to the heavens. A crazed, mad love that was birthed from years of banter and friendship. Love that had transcended from that simple act of being a best friend and a companion, to being something more. To something with many words: significant other, lover, boyfriend or girlfriend, partner... friend, too. Something with so many names, something that came in so many shapes. Sally and Paul weren't watching, they were asleep, they wouldn't see. Only those who saw were the fish, and maybe a few of those on the pier and the small stretch of beach would bear testimony to their embrace and... kiss. Perhaps it would disgust them. Annabeth wanted to laugh, and would have, if not for the fact that her lips were pressed against Percy's, and her entire body was alight with a metaphorical fire. It did not seem disgusting to her, not when this display was not just a kiss, but a lifeline. To feel the beating heart of a lover beneath his chest, that served as reminder that both of you, in equal measures, needed one another to live. Wether because life was pointless without the other, or that in this hot mess of a life that was that of a demigods, they had saved each other's respective lives on countless occasions, it did not matter, because all the same, it was a life saved. When they finally broke apart, conscious of a few other families in the water gawking at the two teenagers, Percy and Annabeth just stared at each other.

"Maybe not best in your father's terrain," Annabeth finally whispered, avidly aware that Percy's hand was still on her waist, bare from wearing a swimming costume. Percy's lips twitched.

"He can deal with it, can't he?"

Annabeth's mouth slipped into a mischievous, almost daring grin.

"He can."

She leaned in, and kissed him again.

Finally, after an amount of time that Annabeth could not discern, she and Percy slipped out of the sea, and back out onto the beach. Annabeth sat down on the sand close besides Percy. She smiled at the feel of her towel, toasted from the sun, on her skin. From lying on the ground, Sally raised her head with a bleary smile.

"Nice swim?" She asked. Percy nodded, wrapping his blue towel closer around himself. His unkempt, raven hair seemed to dance in the sunlight. He heaved a small sigh, and lay back down on the sand.

"Why did you take so long?" Paul asked. From his position, laying down on his towel, Percy froze.

"Uh."

There was a silence, that told Sally and Paul exactly what had occupied the two teenagers time. Both adults clicked their tongues, and fixed the children with bizarre looks, that could have been either teasing or chiding. Annabeth flushed a startling shade of puce. She reached for her book, Wuthering Heights (A/N: Forgot to disclaim this earlier: this is Wuthering Heights, by Emily Jane Brontë. Haha, no. I've totally written Wuthering Heights) which lay atop her bag. Then she slid down, to lie besides Percy.

She opened her book, and began to read.

Presently, the real world fell away. From the debris and the rubble, it fashioned a new world, beyond the whorls of ink and pages that fluttered like wings. It gave way to another dimension of love and quarrels and families. Of another era, and other people. Of Yorkshire moors and Victorian times. Of a bitter man; Marriage; love - again.

"Annabeth, are you reading Wuthering Heights!?" An incredulous voice asked.

"Mm?" Annabeth raised her head, to see Paul looking at her in shock. She glanced back down at her book. "Oh. Uh, yep."

Paul let out a low whistle, whilst Sally and Percy looked between them quizzically. "That's impressive," he stated.

Annabeth flushed lightly with pride. "Thank you."

"Well, as your English teacher," Paul propped himself up on an elbow, "I will set you the task of writing an essay on its major themes."

"Revenge and Love, I'd say. Influenced by the story of Romeo and Juliet," Annabeth said.

Sally laughed, and swatted her partner on the arm with her newspaper. "You can't do that!" She exclaimed.

"I have a speech to write," Percy spoke up, "Annabeth has an essay to write. That seems fair."

"Oy!" Annabeth turned, and elbowed him lightly. Percy laughed.

"I'm joking," Paul declared. He stretched his arms out, and checked his watch.

"I think we should head back and make lunch."

"No," Percy whined, "just a little longer!"

"Well I'm going back to make lunch, anyhow," Paul reasoned, "you can stay a while more if you'd like."

"Awesome. Mom, are you going too?"

"Oh, don't sound so eager," Sally grumbled, she eyed Annabeth and Percy skeptically. "Do I trust the two of you alone?"

"Mom!" Percy gasped. Sally began to laugh. She held her hands up in mock surrender.

"I'm joking, I'm joking! Yeah, it's getting cold, I'm going in."

Paul grabbed her arm, and helped her up.

"Be back at the house in half an hour," He told them, before grasping Sally's hand. Annabeth flipped on her front, and watched them cross the road and disappear into the house.

"I'm gonna get ice cream," Percy said suddenly. Annabeth turned to him with her brows raised.

"We're about to have lunch."

Percy shrugged, and stumbled to his feet, a rakish grin on his countenance. As he did so, the towel around his shoulders slipped to the ground, and it was all Annabeth could do not to stare at his bare torso. His stomach was bronzed, and corded with muscles. Even the scars littering his skin did nothing but highlight his midriff, and give him a roguish, sort of... cute... aspect. Percy cleared his throat, noticing her line of sight. Biting her lip, Annabeth fought the blush that crept up her face. She gave him a rueful look, and rose, onto her feet.

"Do you have money, then?" She inquired. Percy stooped to pick his towel back up, and grab his hoodie. He fumbled in the pockets of his jumper, and dug out four dollars.

"It would seem. Do you want an ice cream too?"

"I don't see why not."

"Okay,"

Percy began to walk a few paces, before turning back to her.

"Are you coming?" He called.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming."

Annabeth darted towards him, and wove her fingers through his. She smiled, and allowed herself to be gently tugged along the shore, to where an ice cream shop stood at a few minutes walk away.

Percy and Annabeth clasped each other's hands tightly as they walked. The cawing of seagulls filled the air, and somewhere up ahead, the lighthouse bathed in the winter sun. Around them, families were trickling in, ready to spend the day at the beach, despite the late December chill. Annabeth was constantly aware of the disdainful looks some groups shot her and Percy, as they took in the couple's, admittedly frequent, kisses; their skin, bare save for a swimming costume (why any would find two children walking along the coast in their swimsuits on a beach odd, Annabeth failed to understand), and most prominently, the stark scars on their every patch of flesh. Annabeth felt their burning gazes, in particular on the ones on her thigh and midriff (the latter rather awkward). Percy still had not commented on how fresh the wound look, but Annabeth was sure it was only a matter of time. She wasn't sure what she'd say if, when, Percy inquired. She couldn't lie to him - to Percy. Maybe she'd twist the truth a little bit, say it was just an old wound ripped open again by a small melee. A sudden cry shook her from her reverie. Not five yards away, a small girl, no more than around six, had tripped over a large rock. She crouched, weeping salty tears, and squinting in horror at the fresh blood from where she had scraped her knee. Annabeth looked around for a parent or guardian, but no one seemed to be in immediate vicinity.

"Hey," Percy was squatting before the little girl in a matter of seconds. He gently put a steadying hand to her back. "Are you alright?"

The girl looked up at Percy with glistening eyes. She wiped at her pretty, dark face with the palms of her hand.

"I-I-" the girl opened her mouth to speak, but looked back down at the wound and began to sob again.

"I'm Percy," Percy said, "Where are your parents?"

"Ma?" The girl sniffed, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, "She went to the restrooms. Ow- it hurts so much."

"I know," Percy whispered, "I'll look after you until Ma gets back. You need to apply pressure to that wound okay?"

The little girl let out another sob. "But it hurts so much, and I don't wanna touch it."

"Shh," Percy hugged her gently - this little girl he did not even know, "It's alright, it's just a little scratch."

The girl cried out, but in Percy's arms, her shoulders stopped shaking so much. She seemed to relax a little.

"It still hurts a bit," she whimpered.

"I know," Percy said again, "but the pain will pass in a few minutes."

Annabeth watched the scene unfold from a small distance afar. She smiled to herself, relishing in Percy's comforting and kind ways. He would make a great older brother, she couldn't help but think. Give it a few months, until his sister was born.

"Wise Girl," Percy said suddenly, looking up from the small girl, he inclined his head, asking quietly for her to come and join him. Warily, Annabeth did so, and crouched before the girl.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"I'm Khadijah," the girl said proudly, wiping away the last of her tears, "and you're called Wise Girl? That's a strange name."

Annabeth laughed slightly. "No, I'm Annabeth. He just likes to call me Wise Girl because he's an idiot."

"Are you brother and sister?" Khadijah

asked. Percy looked a little scandalised.

"That would be awkward," he said, "nah. Annabeth's my girlfriend."

"Oh," the girl smiled, her dark eyes glistening with humour, "that would be awkward, yeah."

It struck Annabeth, that already as this young age, Khadijah was quite eloquent. For a six year old, anyway.

She beamed at the little girl with liking.

"Khadijah!" A voice cut through the air.

"Ma? I'm here, ma!" A tall woman appeared, out of a row of portable toilets. She ran down the beach to where her daughter was, and came to a stop

"Oh my god, Khadi. You're hurt?"

Khadijah shrugged, and smiled.

"I'm fine," she said. "I just scraped my knee. These are Percy and Annabeth. They helped me."

The woman turned to the two teenagers, smiling in gratitude.

"Thank you very much," she said, "that was very kind of you. I'm Gloria."

"No problem," Percy said. Annabeth looked up at Gloria, and saw the woman looking right back at her. But she wasn't looking at her scars, she was looking at her eyes. And frowning. Which Annabeth supposed was perfectly normal, as piercing grey eyes weren't exactly common.

"Well, we'd best be off," she said, suddenly conscious of the time, "come on, Seaweed Brain. We have to be back at the cabin in twenty minutes."

"Yeah," Percy said. "Anyway, nice to meet you!"

"You too," Gloria said, then turned to her daughter, "Come on Khadi, Pa will be waiting at home."

Barely ten minutes later, Percy and Annabeth leant against the wall of the ice cream stand, exchanging snippets of conversation.

"That was a nice thing you did, with the little girl," Annabeth mused.

Percy licked his ice cream, and shrugged. "I guess."

"Don't sell yourself short. That was a good thing to do."

Percy sighed, and rested his head against the wooden planks of the wall. He tilted his head to look at her, his green eyes dancing.

"Okay. It was a nice thing to do."

"Good. You acknowledge it."

Annabeth matched the sea green depths of his irises with her own stormy grey. Together, they made the most reckless, powerful sea storm. Around her waist, Percy's hands tightened their grip, pulling her close against him.

"We should go," he sighed, staring out at the horizon, "but I really don't want to."

"We're already getting dirty looks from people just for you having your hand around my waist."

"Maybe your mother sent them."

"Oh, heck. Then we're in trouble," Annabeth laughed. "No, actually, we should go. We have five minutes to get back."

"Fine, okay."

Percy looked sidelong at Annabeth, and his lips twitched upwards.

"I want to kiss you first, though," he mumbled under his breath.

"Well, what's stopping you?"

Percy grinned at her. He bent, and pressed a deep kiss to her lips. The air was knocked right out of Annabeth. She put her arms around him, and held him tight to her body. He was kissing her again, again. So that her body was tingling and alive and her heart was sent into a crazy bout of palpitations. Oh gods. Oh gods. So this was what love felt like? To adore the other person so much one felt a rush of adrenaline with every graze of the hand; every brush of the lips. The noise of the background faded away into meaningless gibberish. Nothing mattered. Nothing. Nothing. This cracked shell of a world was mended again. Annabeth's arms around Percy's neck, his hands on her back. What morphed from a kiss to an embrace, and finally breaking apart, giggling, confused at their own actions.

"Oh my gods," Percy laughed, "I missed you so much these past days."

"Oh gods, I know."


	52. Chapter 52

Sitting somewhat awkwardly at the dining table, Annabeth picked at a piece of lettuce. She was all too conscious of the curious looks Sally and Paul were throwing she and Percy. As though they were trying to discern what had gone on in the time they had been alone. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but simply as to, perhaps, why Percy's mouth had been smeared with what appeared, ice cream when they had walked in.

"Honey, are you going to write your speech now?" Sally beseeched. Percy shrugged, leaning over and skewering on his fork a few chips from the tray.

"I thought I'd procrastinate it for a bit longer," he said with a wry smile.

"No, don't do that." Sally replied sternly.

"Fine. Whatever. But I'm gonna need help."

"You couldn't have a better company to help, then," Annabeth put in. Percy nudged her.

"Humble, aren't you?"

She snorted, reaching for her glass of water, and taking a long drain. The icy liquid washed her throat, cooling it pleasantly. When she put it down, Annabeth found Percy looking at her out of the corner of his eye. He shot her a smile. A private smile, only for her, that told of all their experiences and the skeletons in the closet only they knew about each other. And Annabeth loved him for that. That surreptitious little grin.

"So when is Grover's wedding?" Paul asked suddenly. Annabeth gestured with her hands.

"The... third of January?" She looked to Percy for assurance, "right?"

"Yeah. The third or the fourth, I think."

"Ah, okay," Paul nodded, "Are Frederick and Helen coming, Annabeth?"

Annabeth frowned. "I don't know."

"Fancy that," Percy scoffed.

Annabeth elbowed him sharply.

A little while later, Percy pushed his chair back, leant against the backrest, and heaved a contented little sigh. The wooden legs on the floor screeched in agony, and his empty plate was balanced on the edge of the table, cutlery an opalescent gash on the pine-wood table.

"Can I - Can we - go now, please?" He inquired. Annabeth glanced at him, drinking in fleetingly, the way his neck arched as he leaned backwards, how his fingers casually drummed in the tabletop, his hair like black fire on his head. No, not black fire. Like onyx. Beautiful, precious onyx. He shifted, and Annabeth blinked, plunging back to earth. She caught herself laughing at her own thoughts, wondering how and when she had began to have these daydreams.

"You have to wash up," Sally said, in answer to her son. Percy's calm composure dropped, turning into something a little aggravated.

"Well Paul and I cooked, so it's only fair," she said.

"Mm, I guess" Percy sighed, raking his fingers back through his ebony black hair. Biting her lip, Annabeth averted her eyes quickly. He was so beautiful; like a light, she supposed. Almost blindingly so. In the queer, strange way that his beauty was something ethereal and otherworldly.

Again, Annabeth mentally hit herself, cursing all these romantic, poetic thoughts that had let themselves in, uninvited, into her mind. They weren't exactly unwanted, just unlike Annabeth. And still, they were salient and stark. She gestured to the kitchen, where Percy was heading to brave cleansing the army of dirty dishes alone.

"Shall I-?"

Sally shook her head fervently, a kindly smile on her lips. "No," she said, "you're our guest- don't worry."

"No, really," Annabeth assured Sally, "I'll help."

"I- if you insist," Sally relented.

Annabeth propped her elbows up on the kitchen counter, and leaned forwards. The steady beat of the water as it beat against the sides of the sink was calmingly consistent, and somewhere, outside, the skies had begun to weep, so that the rolling landscape was bathed in tears. Percy hummed softly, the tune carrying and filling the room. Standing besides him, Annabeth frowned. A warm feeling was seeping into her bones. That such feeling one gets during the Christmas season, when there is a notable shift in the atmosphere. Where people suddenly seem happier, and rather than imposing and daunting, the earlier nightfall is an embrace that reminds one of all things good.

When Percy eventually spoke, it was such a soft sound, Annabeth thought at first it was the wind soughing outside.

"You have washing up liquid in your face," he breathed, laughing. Annabeth pulled a face, and brushed at her cheek, her knuckles slid off her skin coated lightly in white foam. Still, Percy's brow and was creased..

"You still have some- some foam."

"What, where?"

Percy sighed in mock exasperation, and peered are her.

"Here," be signalled beneath his eyes, "no, not there," he paused for a moment, before saying, "just let me do it."

Annabeth's heart picked up speed. The brush of his thumb beneath her eye sent a fiery heat coursing through her veins. Her breath caught in her throat. And as Percy wiped away the last dredges of washing up liquid, Annabeth found her mind wandering. She found herself wondering how it were possible for her breath to become lodged in her jugular like so. It was a wisp of oxygen- surely it couldn't happen. Still, it did. And it was one of those many curiosities of this world, that shouldn't be able to occur, yet still, defeated the laws of physics and chemistry and biology. Annabeth shook herself. Perhaps she was thinking too deeply.

They were almost done, when the gale first blew. Annabeth noticed it first. A seldom tendril of a breeze that snaked in through the half-open window, and tousled her hair. Percy only realised it a little later. When it became a voracious, ravenous thing that flooded in through the window in the form of an icy winter maelstrom. He jumped, as the wind howled like a wolf, and bounded in through the half-open window. The effect was instantaneous. Percy and Annabeth let out a startled cry of "Woah!" In unison, as the storm welled quickly up inside the kitchen, a gust of ferocious wind knocking over crockery and boxes of cereal from the tables. Annabeth dashed to intercept the nearest box of cornflakes, before it could hit the ground and let its contents spill all over the floor. Next was a shower of hail that pelted them like little pebbles, and pummelled at a vase of flowers on the countertop. Alarmed and slightly unbalanced, the two teenagers rushed to the window and pushed, for it to shut. It didn't budge.

"I think it's stuck," Percy grunted, he shifted his entire weight onto it, but it remained almost tauntingly lodged. Biting her lip, Annabeth nudged him aside, and tried herself. It remained firm. Outside, the storm continued with its depraved war cry. The rain lashed out at Annabeth's face, striking like a dagger. Again. Again. She turned to her boyfriend.

"Come on, help," she chided. Percy nodded, and squinted against the hail and the furious gale, bracing his strong hands on the glass panes and pushing with all his worth. Simultaneously, Annabeth did so to. There was a slight groan as the window closed an inch.

"We're getting there," Percy mumbled under his breath. Nodding, but saying naught, Annabeth heaved again. It closed ever so slightly. And so it became a repeated process. Push. Pause. Push. Pause. Inch by agonising inch, with a merciless storm whipping their faces and taking shape in the kitchen, Percy and Annabeth forced shut the window. The click of the lock, locking it shut was perhaps the most satisfying noise she had ever heard. She and Percy leant back against the wall grinning.

"Ah," Percy sighed, wiping his brow, "back to washing up now."

"We did it," Annabeth agreed, taking pleasure in how much triumph their endeavour was causing them, "yeah, let's go and wash up." She shifted her weight into her feet, and regained her balance dizzily. Then she pressed a kiss to Percy's cheek, and danced around him, back to the sink.

"Come, on Seaweed Brain. Washing up."

Percy caught her arm, and pulled her back to him.

"No," he whined. His arms held her tight, stubbornly, stopping her from going to the sink and continuing their laborious chore.

"But we have to," Annabeth reasoned. Percy's grip slackened slightly, and turned into an embrace. Melting back into it in acquiescence, Annabeth smiled to herself, glad of this easy distraction from their mundane, mandatory task.

"No we don't," Percy said, "not yet."

He pressed a small kiss to her cheek, a kiss that could have been either a kiss between two friends or such between two lovers. Or both. Annabeth tilted her head to face him, and rolled her eyes.

"We do," she said, "don't procrastinate that too, Seaweed Brain. It's menial. Besides, we - you -have a speech to write. Oh, I forgot I had your gift, I want to give you that too, I guess-"

Suddenly, somebody's lips were on her's. They were familiar, too. Arms were holding her tight, so wonderfully tight, it seemed that no harm could ever befall her. Hugging and kissing in the recluse of the kitchen. A new sort of deluge of warmth flooded through Annabeth's body. Like a small fire igniting somewhere in the core of her heart or soul and chasing away the relentless chill of winter. All Annabeth really wanted to do then, was to curl up with Percy somewhere safe and warm, away from over-bearing responsibilities, ever-present gods and the shadow of monsters in her wake. She just wanted to sit with Percy somewhere, wrapped up in blankets, and just smile and kiss him and exchange friendly banter. To do those little things that reminded her of how wonderful life was: those empowering laughs, and the snuck kisses, and talking pointlessly with friends until one's mouth ran away from their body and mind. Wanted to shy away from the harsh, undeniable reality of this painstakingly honest world, with her lover and best friend and lifelong companion, and to just indulge in all those small, minor little pleasures that made life fruitful and something of joy and bright colours. The small little things that, though little and seemingly infinitesimal, at the end of the day amounted to something large and something of raw, unadulterated joy.

At the sound of ever-nearing footfalls, Percy and Annabeth broke apart, flushed scarlet, but stifling giggles all the same. Sally came in through the door just as they disentangled their limbs. She took in the half-done dishes, the red aspect to their faces, and the undeniable entwinement of their arms, and immediately raised an eyebrow.

"Did I interrupt something?" She inquired. Percy turned an impressive shade of puce, as he stuttered,

"N-n-no. No."

Sally smirked slightly, not in any way contemptuous, simply in a humoured fashion, and examined her hands.

"I came to see about that storm that came suddenly, but ah, it seems my presence has come at slightly the wrong moment."

"Mom!"

"I'm joking, honey! What happened with the storm, then? I heard things fall." Outside, the muffled whisper of a frightful gale cleaved through the land.

"Nothing," Percy said, face still slightly flushed, "We managed to close the window."

"Good - good," Sally said, "That's been jammed for ages."

"Yeah, I know. We need to finish washing,"

Sally waved her hand, "don't worry. I'll get Paul to do it."

A laugh crawled up Annabeth's throat, as Percy tugged gently on her arm.

"Won't he mind?" She asked. Again, Sally's hand cut dismissively through the air.

"He may as well pitch in a bit."

There was a small clacking sound as Paul took the lid off the box, and let it fall to the floor besides him. Sitting besides Annabeth on the sofa, Percy made a dubious sound at the back of his throat.

"We're playing Monopoly!?" He exclaimed, "I'm not playing against Annabeth in that. She's too good."

Sally laughed, adjusting her mug of tea on the coffee table. Outside, night had fallen, and the lamp overhead bathed the room in a mellow glow, that chased away most of the silent shadows. Some distance away, the sea crashed against the rocks, and the wind serenaded the trees, as it slowly caressed their bare winter branches.

"I don't fancy playing against a daughter of Athena either, but it's all just a game."

Annabeth flushed a little, and gave a small, joking bow. "Why, thank you." She said.

Paul laughed quietly as he put down a stack of fake money.

"We can play in teams," he reasoned, "then at least we stand a chance."

"Don't worry," Annabeth assured him, "if I beat you in this, you're very welcome to challenge me to a game of Scrabble."

Percy shifted in his seat, and Annabeth glanced at him. The fireplace flickered slightly, his angelic physiognomy was cast by a distortion of warm, honeyed light.

"I'm playing on your team," he whispered, "but I'm not going to damage my pride as much, by playing scrabble."

"And I thought I was the prideful one," Annabeth countered. Percy stifled a laugh, reaching over for the wheelbarrow counter and placing it on 'Go.'

"We'll go for Mayfair," he mumbled.

"Why wouldn't you? I once bankrupted my dad with four hotels on Mayfair and five on Park Lane. Ah, that was fun."

"Show off," Percy replied, though his voice held no malice.

"I know," Annabeth smiled and reached for the die.

"Oh, come on!" Sally exclaimed, as she and Paul's steamship counter came to a stop at Mayfair. Grinning, Percy held out his hand and wiggled his fingers.

"That has a hotel on it, too. I believe you owe us... two thousand." (A/N: I had to look this up on my own Monopoly board, which resulted in me almost dying after nearly having an entire shelf worth of dusty board games falling on top of me, as I was awkwardly balanced on the armrest of a chair. The things I do for you guys)

Paul gaped. Still, he reluctantly fished out the required sun, and mutely handed it to his stepson.

"That's means you have eight thousand," Sally observed, "And we have three hundred."

"I told you Annabeth's good," Percy said to his mother.

"Well can she stop being so!" Sally laughed. Annabeth pulled a face.

"Sorry," she said, "I can't switch it on and off like a tap!"

Percy smothered guffaws, whilst Sally's lips twitched with suppressed giggles. The elder woman elbowed her husband softly.

"Come on," she muttered to him, "let's get this over with."

Paul smiled tiredly, and rolled the dice across the board. They skittered to a stop at the 'Income Tax' section.

"I think I'm going to sleep after I get bankrupted," he said, "And oh- would you look at that, 'Chance' is telling me to advance to Mayfair."

Annabeth laughed hard, as she watched a miniature metal steamship chug back to where it as just come from, about to be bled dry.

"Two thousand, please," Percy said pleasantly. Paul yawned, and slapped his remaining amount of money down in the centre of the board, though with no force. He smiled at them, and rubbed his eyes. "I'm going to bed," Paul stated, "well done."

Percy grinned wildly, and suddenly, his face became younger. The countenance of a small boy, able to steal such triumph and satisfaction from something as trivial as a board game.

"Thank you, Paul. We'll be on our way to make good use of this money."

"Ha," Annabeth interjected, "shame it isn't real."

A fond smile grew on Sally's lips, "I think I'm going to bed, too."

"Okay," Percy said.

"You should do the same."

"I sort of want to watch a film. If it's alright."

Sally shrugged half heartedly, the fatigue beating down on her as plain as the nose on her face.

"So long as you don't sleep till twelve tomorrow."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Annabeth snorted. "Was that a joke?" She asked. Percy shot her a mischievous, side-long smile. "Perhaps," he said. Some type of burning flame ignited in Annabeth's heart. She pushed furiously down against it.

'Not now," she told her blazing soul, beseeching it to stop her from making her feel this way. From making her feel so head-over-heels in love, and causing her head to swim with a thousand unsung words. Sweet nothings.

'Now,' it whispered back. 'Always.'

Once Sally and Paul had disappeared into their bedroom, Percy grabbed her hand, and gently tugged Annabeth towards the TV.

"What do you wanna watch?" He asked. Annabeth snorted.

"I know how much you'd love to watch Finding Nemo," she said, "but I wouldn't watch that if you paid me." (A/N: do I really need to disclaimer this? Haha, this isn't mine it's Disney's). Percy's face split into a massive grin, and he began to laugh.

"You know me too well."

"Well I have had to deal with your annoying self for five years."

"Ah, you know you love me." Percy bumped her shoulder, as he returned to the stack of DVDs.

"What about Princess Mononoke?" He asked, holding up the case. (A/N: This is honestly the best film ever, it belongs to Studio Ghibli. I don't own it. If you can imagine that) Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Okay."

With a contened sigh, Percy threw himself down on the sofa. He grabbed a stray blanket and spread it over their legs, then leaned back and closed his eyes. The film was just starting and the beam of a car's headlights swept through the living room. Annabeth drew her legs up, and curled them beneath her, drawing satisfaction from this serene, beautiful moment. Percy opened his eyes again and grunted.

"That monster looks like a lasagna," he declared.

Fixing her eyes on the screen before them, Annabeth smothered giggles. Because truly, laughing would have been insensitive to this anime man on the television set, as he fell from a rickety wooden tower. She jabbed him in the ribs.

"Be quiet." She hissed.

Percy grinned into the darkness, his hand drumming casually on the armrest.

"Alright, alright, your highness."

"I appreciate the title. Thank you."

Around halfway through the film, Annabeth first began to feel exhaustion wearing down on her down. One whole day of feeling the liberation of rest, that she had almost forgotten what tiredness felt like, and so it took her a few moments to discern this strange thing stirring inside her. She yawned, and sagged back against the arm rest, taking a part of the blanket with her. Percy seemed to notice this, for he quietly passed her the rest of the quilt, which she took without protest.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"Anytime," someone whispered back. Only the voice seemed to be elongated, seemed to wrap around her and fade into mist. There was slight movement on the couch, but even that was trivial, as Annabeth's mind tried to latch onto it and her surroundings. Yet... futile. What went from kicking and biting against the manacles of sleep, turned to relieved acquiescence as she allowed slumber to hold her tight and pull her down into its void.

Dimly, Annabeth was aware of someone's arm lifting her beneath her own arms. A figure was getting up, and holding her close. She was being gently moved, gently, gently... Then quite suddenly, the couch beneath her was gone, and somebody was cradling her like a baby. Holding her bridal style, with arms beneath her knees and armpits. Her head was leaning back against somebody's elbows and she was so close against somebody's chest, in this hazy state of mind, she could just make out the steady thumping of a heart. Annabeth was aware of footfalls sounding- though their echo was distorted - and her body rocking ever so slightly in somebody's arms. Each step sent a pleasure tremor up her body, as she was thrown against a warm torso. There was a creak of a door, someone walking again - bouncing up and down - and then she was being carefully lowered down onto a mattress, and somebody was pulling covers over her cold body. A cool kiss was being pressed to her forehead, and somebody was whispering "Goodnight." And it was only as Annabeth heard the groan of a bed, that she really realised, just how very long it had been since someone tucked into her bed.


	53. Chapter 53

Annabeth awoke the next morning to the shrill cry of her phone. She and Percy bolted upright from their respective beds panting, the noise wrenching them from their slumber.

"What-" Percy began, gasping, "what is that?"

In the dim light seeping in through the shutters, Annabeth fumbled for her cell phone. Grasping it in her hand, she sank back against her pillows, groaning.

"It's just my phone," she said, "my dad is ringing me." Annabeth slid to answer with a resigned sigh.

"Hi, honey! Good morning!" Came a bright voice from the end of the line.

"Hey dad," Annabeth mumbled back, her voice slightly slurred with the final dredges of sleep,"why d'you call so early?"

"Early!?" And incredulous voice answered, "it's half eleven, Annabeth."

"What, oh-" Annabeth looked up at Percy, and presently began to laugh.

"How are you?" Frederick asked, though his questions were clearly empty, and for the mundane point of small talk.

"I'm good," she said. She rose wearily, and began making work of the pulley on the window, drawing the shutters up. As the searing noontime sun flooded into the room, Percy squeaked slightly, a hand to his eyes.

"Argh," he yelped as he fell back onto his bed, "my eyes!"

"Someone sounds like their dying back there," Frederick quipped, "are you sure you're alright?"

Annabeth turned from the window, the sun caressing her cheek. She grinned at her father's remark.

"We're all good," she yawned, "I just think Percy may be part vampire."

At this, there was a muffled laugh on the other end of the line.

"Well," Frederick said with an air of finality, "I don't want to bore you. We're having brunch with Alex - you remember, my friend from work - and his family, so I have to go now."

"Right," Annabeth tried futilely not to sound too glad, "have fun with that."

"Bye, honey."

"Bye."

Tossing her phone back onto the mattress, Annabeth sighed deeply.

"You okay?" Percy asked. He was in a strange position, lying on his back with his legs up against the wall and his head hanging upside down, off the side of his bed. At least to Annabeth, he looked adorable.

"Fine. I'm just tired." She replied, rubbing her eyes.

"Well what about a swim in the icy winter Atlantic Ocean to wake you up?"

Annabeth grinned, and suppressed a laugh.

"Whilst I'm sure that would no doubt wake me," Annabeth propped herself up, and rested her head on his mattress, twisting it to face him, "I don't fancy it, no. I'd rather not get Hypothermia."

Percy's eyes lit up with quiet laughter. He put his forehead gently against her's - which was odd, considering he was face-down - and beamed.

"We should go cycling," he said, "we always do this cycle with mom, it's nice. Kinda a tradition."

Annabeth's forehead creased slightly.

"I'd love to, but it sounds like something sort, of," there was a pause, as she tried to muster up a fitting word to say. Finally, she settled for "Personal."

"Of course not!" Percy exclaimed. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and, smiled. "It'd be better if you come."

"And why's that?" Annabeth pressed, her smile bordering on coyness. With a face red from hanging upside-down, Percy swung himself up into a sitting position, and let a grin dance on his lips.

"Just cause," he sighed contentedly, and pushed himself to his feet, "come on Wise Girl. Let's get breakfast."

In the dining room, Paul sat before a large stack of exercise books. Sally was nowhere to be seen - presumably taking a tranquil walk down the coast - and the only sound other that the fluttering of paper was the radio, stilly dictating the countless fraught articles for the United States to hear today. The first thing Percy did before sitting down was click it off, and the silence it wrought was almost startling.

"No need to depress ourselves with that rubbish," he said as manner of greeting, reaching for toast. Paul raised his mug of coffee in acknowledgment, frowning as he studied an essay a student had written.

"Good morning," he said, "sleep well?"

"Uh-huh," Percy reached for the jelly and began to lather it onto his breakfast. From the corner of her eye, Annabeth watched him, unsure as to wether she should chide him for putting on that much jelly, or laugh, and join him in his endeavours. Deciding she wasn't his mother, no matter how much she had to sometimes act like it, Annabeth settled for the latter. She slid the jelly jar towards her, and began to spread it on her toast. Only now, did she realise just how much her stomach yawned in hunger. It was as if somebody was digging a gaping hole in it. A hole so deep it seemed bottomless and Stygian black. With a voraciousness akin to a wolf's, Annabeth reached for her breakfast and bit into it.

The coffee was deliciously hot. Annabeth took pleasure in the way that the liquid seemed to flood through her veins, and warm her heart. It was rejuvenating and bitter - bitter in the way coffee is: such a way that is kind to the tongue.

"So," Percy began, after a few minutes of silence, "I was wondering if we could go on that cycle? You know the one we do every time we come here, with the big hill at the end?" He sought out a napkin, and wiped his sticky mouth of jam.

Paul looked up, and nodded.

"Well Sally can't go, obviously," he told them, "and I'm marking books all day, but I don't see why you can't go yourselves."

"Cool," Percy said, "thanks Paul!"

Annabeth leaned over the table slightly.

"You're marking books?" She inquired, "is mine there?"

Paul's eyes went to the large pile besides him, and he began to flick through a few.

"Yeah," he said.

"Oh gods, I don't really wanna see my myriad of spelling mistakes."

Paul laughed, and patted her arm, "don't worry." He paused for a moment before, turning to his stepson again.

"Do you have money to rent bikes, Perce?" He added.

"Uh-huh." Percy confirmed. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

"I'm gonna have a quick bath, first," he said. Paul shook his head.

"Have a shower," he implored, "you have a bath, and you take two hours making shapes out of the water and waves."

"I do not!"

Paul laughed, and waved a hand.

"If you say so."

As she waited for Percy to finish with his shower, Annabeth sat in the living room reading. She was subliminally aware of the running water from the shower, muffled, but beating rhythmically from the general direction of the bathroom. Somewhere outside, the vicious sea churned and gnashed at the rocks, and the wind, rolling in from the Atlantic, was beguiling, whispering in the attentive ears of the trees.

"Looking forwards to camp?" Sally asked suddenly. She was sitting on the couch opposite Annabeth. Had been sitting there some time now, having returned from a stroll down the coast, and looked perfectly comfortable, wrapped in a warm quilt with a coffee at her side. Annabeth nodded fervently.

"I do miss it a lot," she agreed, "and I can't believe Grover's getting married!"

"Me neither. It's hard to wrap my head around it."

"I'm happy for him," Annabeth looked up at Sally, her eyes dancing.

"Me too," Sally sighed happily. "He's been through a lot, I mean, it's amazing he can finally settle down. I owe a lot to Grover."

"So do I," Annabeth replied. Her voice was a little wistful. Her eyes wandered over to the crackling fire, staring at it, eyes fixated as though in the flames, she could see all that Grover had done for her, for Percy, for Thalia and Luke and Nico and All Of Them.

Some time later, the creak of the bathroom door made Annabeth jump.

"Paul," a familiar voice called, "have you seen a razor?"

Annabeth looked up, and what she saw made a hysterical bout of giggles rise in her throat. Percy stood, framed in the doorway. The light clearly on his face, revealing...

"Oh my gods!" She exclaimed. A sliver of a laugh crawled up her jugular and out of her lips as she stared at her boyfriend. At the bottom half of his face, completely covered by white, foamy shaving cream.

"Alright Santa Clause?" She snorted. Another laugh broke free from her lips.

"I'm just resting after Christmas Eve," Percy said, "it's a tiring time for an old man like me."

Annabeth covered her mouth to muffle the reckless howl coming from her. She realised that she was suddenly shaking with laughter, rocking back and forth, as Sally smiled in the corner. Percy was chuckling too, his green eyes sparkling. And Annabeth was just guffawing incessantly, not even trying to hide it. Taking delight in this raw, unadulterated joy; humour. Laughing simply, at the mundane image of a boy standing a few feet away, the lower part of his face covered in cream that made him seem to age by seventy years. It was a stupid, ridiculous thing to take humour from. But what did it matter? And gods, it felt good to laugh. To laugh so one's ribs ached and their sides felt as if they were tearing and their stomach felt tight and their lungs were like an inflated balloon, so that one tried and tried to breathe, but the effect was marginal as they immersed themselves in this beautiful thing named happiness. In this thing that still thrived, with those who could still find happiness in misery (A/N: What? No! Of course I'm not referencing Fall Out Boy, what are you talking about?). Those who found happiness in everything. Those who were balanced in misery and sadness. Those who were old. Young. Female and male. Those too, who didn't identify as either and those who were both and those who just didn't care. Happiness was exclusive to everybody, and it did not matter if one had literally crawled through hell, it was still around. Happiness was something worth living for. And those - these - pure moments of laughing where nothing mattered anymore, and all in one's the mind was just how joyous they felt at this present moment in life's rollercoaster.

Annabeth stood in the shower, the small puddle of water at her feet sloshing against the wall, before being sucked down the drain. The water was hot. It ran down her naked body, over her scarred and bruised flesh, the muscular curves of her limbs, her carefully shaped torso. It was comforting. Grounding, even. The kind warmth the liquid wrought, a reminder that she was not floating, but still on this world. Annabeth looked to the foggy shower screen, and out of a childish impulse, drew a smiley face on its condensed glass. Through the path where she had drawn, and so cleared the condensation, she could see the bathroom. It was relatively cramped, with the bath directly besides the shower, and the sink and toilet too close for it to be normal, but Annabeth found this did not bother her. A smile played on her lips. The water snaked its way down her back. Her blonde hair dripped and dripped and dripped. It was quite strange, when she looked down at her body. That all those ten years of incessant training and fighting, and she still looked human- still looked like nothing more than a young girl, just fresh from the years of puberty. Annabeth wasn't sure why she found it surreal- it was difficult to explain. But yet she found it odd, that all her body had to show - all the physical impacts brought upon her - where meagre scars and bruises, that looked too normal for wounds that had seen so much. Her mind was more scarred than her flesh, it appeared. Her body... she would look down at it, and be surprised to find that she looked like a woman - girl. With the same hair and slight curve of her waist. With a back that - like any back - went slightly in, then back out at her shoulders. There was the - candidly - swell of her chest: like any female. Her legs were long and lean, and like all other people, slightly larger at the thighs. It was so, so surreal. That for all she had faced, this body was a reminder that Annabeth was no superhuman god, or even creature. She was human, for the love of the gods. Even if only half so. She was still a woman who brushed her hair and, in all frankness, had to shave in the summer, and deal with menstrual cramps monthly, and all these crazy things that made her realise that still, still for all her suffering she was only a little girl. And she would always be, forever stay in the body of a female human, no matter how much for how long she performed those extraordinary feats no little girl - no woman or boy or man - should be able to. And wasn't it crazy how she managed at all?

A few minutes later, contemplating partly, the strange path at which her thoughts had taken, Annabeth pushed open the bathroom door, and stepped out into the sitting room. If she had thought that the bathroom had been cold when she'd stepped out of the shower, it was nothing compared to the freezing chill now. Percy, now clean shaven and without a ridiculous Santa Clause beard, looked up, and mutely held out a hairdryer.

"Thanks," Annabeth muttered, sitting down besides him. She took the hairdryer gratefully, and clicked it on. Its deafening roar was instantaneous, the searing heat scalding her ear.

"Shoot," she said half-heartedly, laughing partly too, as she slid the button down to a lower power.

"So when d'you wanna leave?" Percy asked loudly, over the angry roar of the hairdryer.

"I dunno," Annabeth replied, "as soon as I dry my hair, if you want?"

"Yeah, that's good."

Annabeth had zipped her coat up to the top, pulled a woolly hat on, and the space between her collarbones and the base of nose was bundled in a thick, woollen scarf she had loaned from Percy. The aforementioned Percy, too, was bedecked in such warm clothing, that a casual passerby, may think they were off on a voyage to the artic, not a bike ride. The pair were making haste down the streets of Montauk, exchanging casual snippets of conversation. With most people either braving the cold sea, or taking refuge inside, from the harsh temperature out, the streets were practically bare of people. Annabeth supposed she and Percy must have looked crazy. But then again, Percy and she had endured worse conditions, so a long bike ride in what could be deemed as insufferable cold, was nothing to them. Else, they simply enjoyed this feeling of liberation.

After trotting down a long, narrow street, hemmed with small houses, Percy tugged gently on Annabeth's arm, steering her down a small backroad. She obliged, and followed him down it, her feet picking out paths in the uneven pavement. Before long, she and Percy came before an empty, old warehouse.

"Hello?" Percy called out, "John? You there?" He raked his eyes over the rows of bikes standing outside the large metal doors of the warehouse, and seemed unsatisfied.

"John runs this place," he told Annabeth under his breath, "he's usually outside sipping tea, but apparently not today."

Annabeth shrugged, "it's freezing. Why would anyone be willingly outside now?"

"We are."

"Yes, because we're utterly mad."

Percy huffed in amusement, and took a few steps towards the warehouse doors, which were thrust open to reveal a dark, dingy interior. Annabeth came up besides him, falling into stride with him as they halted in the foyer of the large room.

It took several blinks, for Annabeth's eyes to adjust to the gloom. In the murky darkness, she could only just make out the silhouette of a counter, bikes lining the walls, crates against the wall. A narrow shaft of light from the vents illuminated a small patch in the centre of the warehouse. Somewhere near the back of the room, a strange heap showed its form.

"John?" Percy called again. There was grunting in the far corner, and the sound of rustling.

"Customers?" A disembodied voice asked, "now?"

"Yes," Percy said in a bored voice, "if it wouldn't trouble you too much, to put down 'The New York Times,' and come outside and attend to us."

"I'm not reading 'The New York Times'," the voice said again.

"You're always reading the 'New York Times'," Percy sighed. There was a momentary pause, before the person spoke again.

"Wait - Is that Percy Jackson?"

"Yep, it's me."

"Hey! I was wondering when you'd show again, man. I'll be with ya in a moment."

Annabeth watched as the heap she'd seen at the back of the room began to move. The sound of fluttering pages echoed momentarily around the room, and presently, the figure began to come towards she and Percy, slowly assuming the thought of a large, middle-aged man.

"Percy, my man!" John exclaimed when he reached them. He gave Percy a quick one armed hug.

"How you been keeping, mate? How's your mother? Paul? Come, come." John gestured for them to follow him outside, which they did. After the perpetual darkness of the warehouse, the winter sun was blinding to Annabeth's eyes. She watched the elder man speak to Percy with ease and zeal, gesturing to bikes he may be interested in.

"So, what you been up to?" He asked Percy, raking a hand through his tufts of brown hair. His face was red, and Annabeth stood there, trying fruitlessly to discern wether that was his natural colour, or simply the cold. The man appeared oblivious to her, standing with her arms wrapped around her torso, watching the exchange he and Percy were having. Perhaps it was Annabeth's ADHD, or that John really did talk for hours, but the guy just didn't seem to shut up. It was halfway through John's asking why Paul wasn't here, that he finally stopped and stared at her.

"Who are you?" He inquired.

"Um, Annabeth."

"Yeah but-"

"My girlfriend," Percy interrupted.

John raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and Annabeth thought perhaps her cheeks went a little scarlet. She was suddenly glad for the scarf concealing them.

"Right," Percy said, trying to ease a certain awkwardness that had settled over the party, "we want to rent two bikes."

"Okay," John said, "for how long."

"Geez, I dunno. Two and a half hours?"

"How much you got?"

"Uh," Percy dug in his pocket, and produced a five dollar note. John frowned.

"I'm sorry, man," he said "but that's not enough."

"Oh, come on John," Percy pleaded, "it's just me, Percy."

"Yeah, but I can't make exceptions, not even for you, man," John sighed, "I'm sorry."

Percy groaned. "It's okay," he said, "I understand. Well, why don't we get one bike, and one of us can sit on the back?"

Annabeth raised her brows. "I'm not sitting on the rack," she said, "it's uncomfortable as hell -you can if you want."

"We can swap, I guess."

"Alright, how much is that?"

Percy turned to John, a question clear on his countenance. The man shrugged and held out his hand.

"Five dollars,"

Percy put the note in John's hand, and smiled.

"Thanks John," he said. John was already wheeling a bike out, and looked up grinning.

"Anytime, man. Tell Sally and Paul 'hi' from me, 'kay? Nice to meet you, Annabeth."

"You too," Annabeth said, "thanks."

They waited till they were clear of the dark, narrow alleys and uneven paving, before getting on the bike. Percy wheeled it out onto highly street, and turned to Annabeth.

"So, you on the back, or me?"

Annabeth grinned, "it was your idea, so you first."

Percy laughed, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, but we change at the top of the hill."

"Fine, if you insist."

Annabeth swung her leg over the other side of the bicycles, and rested one foot on the pedal. The bike wobbled slightly as Percy clambered on. Once he was securely on the back, Annabeth looked over her shoulder.

"Ready?" She asked, voice raised over the roar of the crashing waves and the malevolent sea.

"Ready," Percy replied. Like a sleek jet plane or an eagle taking off, Annabeth pushed off from the ground, and fell down onto the bike seat. She gripped the handle bars tight, her feet cutting circles through the air, as she began to force the pedals forwards. With a slight creak, the bike began down the high street.

"I can't believe we're actually moving," Percy laughed, as the wind, like with all moving things, seemed to become stronger. Nodding, Annabeth squinted into the gale, trying with all her might to keep her eyes open.

"Me neither," she chuckled back. There was something beautiful in this; in the glorious breeze caressing her hair, the briny air, the feel of the bike ploughing through the barren streets of Montauk. And of course, she was avidly aware of the perpetual beauty that was Percy's arms, wrapped around her waist in the desperate attempt to keep himself on this flimsy vehicle.

It was a little while later, that Percy directed Annabeth onto a more secluded, coastal path. It led away from the town, and showed what once must have been a gritty eroded footpath, but was now covered by planks of wood, making it more accessible. The salty air was tangible, too. It felt almost heavy, sagging down on her shoulders like a ton of bricks. Yet though this may have been cumbersome, Annabeth found it was not. The wooden planks clunked as the bike rode over them, so that Percy sucked in air behind her.

"Not sure how long the planks will last," he said. Annabeth shrugged, smiling, relishing in the way an overhanging tree's branches brushed at her hair like an affectionate mother.

"Doesn't really matter," she called back - called, because over the incessant chattering of the world around them, it was hard to hear one another. Somewhere above, a seagull cawed, and in the undergrowth, small critters watched the two humans pass with wide eyes. A single tendril of sunlight snaked its way through the clouds. It warmed Annabeth's face suddenly. So that as she pedalled, she took delight in the golden light dancing on her cheek. Percy did too, for he may have whooped. Maybe. Or perhaps, again, that was just the wind.

They stopped for lunch at the top of a large hill. It was, according to Percy, halfway through their cycle, and so a fitting place to stop to eat.

"We always stop here," Percy had said, "it's nice."

And now, sitting besides him on a bench, Annabeth had to say, that though nice place it was, perhaps not so much winter; It was absolutely freezing. She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, and bit into one of the sandwiches Percy had made when she'd been mulling in her thoughts in the shower.

"It's cold," Percy suddenly averred through chattering teeth.

"Tell me about it," Annabeth whispered back. She gave him a sideways glance, and began to smile suddenly.

"But oh well," she said, "this is fun."

"Yeah," Percy laughed. He took another mouthful of a cheese sandwich, and sought for her hand. The wind soughed as Annabeth took it, like an audience readying themselves for a play about to start. They found themselves huddling together for both warmth and affection in equal measures. Their shoulders were pressed together, so that no matter how hard somebody were to look they would not find even the most meagre inch of space between them. Annabeth realised she was resting her head on his shoulder, his head resting on her own. She found herself looking about her, at the vast network of towns and roads far beneath her. The rolling landscapes and the sea kneeling at the foot of she and Percy's hill. Here, Annabeth caught herself understanding the gods. So far up here, she felt at the top of the world. She felt as though she were untouchable, her power infinite and superior. There was a rush through her body, that compelled her to shout out to Long Island to bow before her now, they - all it's inhabitants - were subservient and trivial to her. Everything down here; all was beneath her. All and everyone, and here, she could do whatever. And in that terrifying fraction of a second, Annabeth saw through the eyes of the gods. Because in that moment, she realised that if she lived as they did, she probably would act exactly the same. And really, who wouldn't?

"Right," Percy said, standing up and brushing crumbs off his front, "We should go, it'll be getting dark by the time we get back."

"Yeah." Annabeth stifled a yawn, "we should go." She heaved herself up, onto her feet, and made to the bicycle, which they had left strewn at the base of a barren tree. Hefting it up, she turned to Percy.

"Your turn to steer," she said, pouting slightly. Percy kissed her cheek as he passed, and inclined his head.

"It is, yes."

Annabeth watched him grin, hoisting himself onto the bike and balancing it with his feet.

"Getting on?" He asked over his shoulder. Annabeth nodded.

"I'm gonna stand though." Using Percy as leverage, she put her hands on his shoulders, and jumped up onto the rack, standing on it with her feet planted slightly apart. The bike wobbled slightly.

"Woah," Percy started, frantically scrambling to get the bike steady one more. Annabeth laughed.

"Okay?"

"I'm good- will you be, now when we go down the hill? You're standing up."

Annabeth waved her hand dismissively.

"I'll be fine."

"Right- let's go!" Percy kicked off from the ground, and sent the bike careening down the slope.

There was no time for thought. There had been no doubts, and no precise calculations of how steep and how tall this hill was. And now, there was a fraction of a second where both Percy and Annabeth realised that there was no turning back. So instead of panicking, they let out a whoop of euphoric joy.

"We're going to die!" Percy screamed at the top of his lungs, though his voice was fraught with laughter; the bicycle was hurtling down the hill at one hundred miles an hour.

"No we're not!" Annabeth yelled back. The wind was deafening in her ears, her heart was beating, racing, a beam that split her face in half danced on her lips.

"Oh my gods, I'm gonna let go!" She added.

"What!?" Percy screeched back. Here they were, hurtling down this huge, huge slope and Annabeth was letting go of Percy's shoulders and allowing nothing but her feet to keep her in place. She hollered- hollered so loud her voice seemed to spread over the whole of Long Island.

"Are you absolutely mental!?" Percy demanded, his voice carrying in the ferocious wind.

"Yes!" Annabeth shouted back, aware of the raw, mad feeling inside of her. The one that tugged on something in her that compelled her to indulge these reckless activities. Any other person, would have fallen, but she was Annabeth Chase. She did not.

"I'm going to do the same!" Percy cried, he slowly withdrew his hands from the handlebar, and suddenly it was as if everything was suspended. As if the world had slowed down to allow them this sacred piece of time of pure happiness that they could share. Just the two of them. And perhaps it was that sudden freeze in time, that moment that Percy turned slightly backwards, his hair whipping back and forth, and at the very top of his lungs bellowed.

"I love you!"

"I love you too," Annabeth whispered in Percy's ear. Still, they weren't even half way down the hill,

"What do you think the gods make of that?" Percy roared, "when they look down on us, and see us crying for each other, or kissing, or just our simple banter. What do they make of it?"

"They can make of it whatever they want," Annabeth answered, "and it's none of their godly business."

"Our parents!?"

"Can go to hell with their opinions."

Annabeth felt something in her chest ignite, and lash out like a lion.

"Do you think our parents are watching?" she asked after what seemed like an infinite pause. The ravenous gale screeched in her ears.

"Probably!" Percy called over the wind, "but what do I care? I want to spend my life with you Annabeth Chase. When most people say that, they mean matrimony: I don't mean that. Gods, that decision isn't one to even begin to contend with for at least another ten years, assuming we're still together - which frankly, we probably will be at this rate. I mean I don't ever want to be separate from you again! No crazy, interfering goddesses. Even if we were to grow to cease loving each other romantically- which, if we judge on the story of soulmates most likely won't happen, I want to live near you. I want you to remind me what love is and why life is worth living. I want you to tie me to the earth. And if it's the same apartment or a different city, I don't care- I want to spend my life with you! And if Athena and Poseidon are watching then all the better!"

Annabeth's heart almost stopped beating in her chest. So it was then that she yelled the words she had only ever whispered before. She said them simply, no so much with emotions, but stated them as though they were a fact. Which, she supposed, they were. An undeniable fact, an unchangeable fact, an unyielding fact taken straight from a textbook. The words she said next, she said more powerfully than she had ever said them before, and so for all the land to hear, she plainly said, over the still seething wind,

"I love you!"

The clouds parted, and a ray of light swept through the landscape, and Annabeth knew, that the gods, the gods were watching. As always, she supposed. But for the first time, she found that she did not care.


	54. Chapter 54

The day was the thirty-first of December. For a while, Annabeth just lay in her bed, blinking, trying to discern how it had already been half a year since the Seven's quest around the world; one and a half years since the battle with Kronos. And then, it was saddening, she thought, how she based periods of her life on the distance between the last apocalypse. But then there was a familiar grunt, and quick as it had come, Annabeth felt the sadness melt away. She smiled into the dim morning light.

"Sleep well?" She asked - perhaps a little coyly. Percy smiled. Not that Annabeth could see him, with her eyes looking to the white ceiling, but from all these beautiful years spent together, she could almost sense when he grinned- frowned, too. His emotions had become something near tangible to her.

"Yep," Percy said. There was a momentary pause before he added, "hey, can I show you something?"

Annabeth tilted her head to face him and creased her brow in a way that was almost curious.

"Yeah," she said tentatively. Percy's lips twitched upwards, and he leant towards his suitcase besides his bed. Attentively, Annabeth watched him rummage through his things until he found what he was looking for. He produced a square, hardback sketchbook, which he set down on his lap, sliding up against the wall into a sitting position. Annabeth got unsteadily to her feet and fell back down besides him. She pulled a face at the book in Percy's hands.

"That says 'private' on it," Annabeth observed, taking in the chunky writing emblazoned on the cover. Percy shrugged.

"It is, but I need to show you this." Then he flipped the first page.

Annabeth's world might as well have completely frozen. It fell away, leaving her with nothing but the painting on the piece of paper. The stark colours that blended smoothly into light ones. Rainbows and monochromes that danced across the smooth page, reaching out to the edges like a hand reaching for the comfort of a lover's fingers.

"I didn't know you could paint," Annabeth breathed, her eyes tracing the lines of the beautiful figure. The tall, slim lean body, the mane of golden hair, the perfect, terrifyingly precise reflection in the slate grey eyes.

"Neither did I," Percy whispered. Annabeth wasn't sure why they were speaking stilly, but it felt appropriate. She stared at the figure, standing on the thwart of a small sailing boat, a familiar beach behind her, a triumphant expression adorning her countenance. Annabeth remembered that day all too clearly. It had been fun, the camp had done a small mock sea battle and she and Percy had been flagship of their team. They had won, as expected; had stood in their boat with their arms raised in victory as the sun kissed their cheeks, caressing their soft skin.

"Anyway," Percy continued, "Mom had this idea that when I had a nightmare I should draw or paint happy moments, I thought- I thought maybe you might want to try it out."

If any other person had made this move to try and reach her in these personal matters, Annabeth would've smacked them into the next continent, age bracket and century. It would have felt invasive. But not Percy. Instead, she nodded, a real smile brightening her features.

"That's a good idea. Wow, I mean-" Annabeth flicked through a few pages, "these are halfway to Rachel. That's a compliment." The way Percy had captured each drawing was sublime. There were adorable pictures of him as a young child, holding his mother's hand in an aquarium. There was the bonfire of Camp-half blood. Friends. Mothers. Step fathers. But what Annabeth couldn't help but notice was that she, herself was in most of these relics. She was drawn in the most beautiful ways. With the ripe noontime sun glancing down her locks; her eyes glistening in the light of the fire; her face contorted in pure laughter as she bent over, arms clasping her stomach in a show of unadulterated joy. Annabeth's breath caught on a watercolour image of she, Percy, Tyson and Grover about three years ago.

"Wow," she murmured. She glanced up at Percy to see he was blushing slightly.

"Thanks," he muttered, wrapping his fingers through her's. Then he kissed her and Annabeth thought, perhaps, the faded world may never return.

Later that day, Percy and Annabeth found themselves bundled in coats, running down to the beach. They had persuaded Sally and Paul to allow them to go up and see the boardwalk, which was being prepared for a huge New Year's party. And so after promising that 'yes they would be back in time to write Percy's speech before dinner,' the couple were rejuvenated by the briny air tingling their cheeks as they hurtled down the sandy banks. Annabeth curled her fingers through Percy's, tugging him along. They walked close to each other - so close their shoulders bumped with every steps.

"So how long's this walk?" Annabeth asked. Percy shrugged.

"Dunno," he said truthfully. Annabeth laughed, sneaking a sidelong glance at her boyfriend. He looked beautiful- or more so than usual, anyway. It appeared he had chosen a very urban, semi-formal attire; dressed in a black trench coat that went down to his knees, black pants and black docs; Fashionable. The wind ran its tender hands through his hair, picking at little strands and tousling them like a fond older brother.

"What?" Percy asked, suddenly aware of her staring, "Did I cut myself shaving?" Annabeth shook her head, smiling to herself.

"No, nothing," she quickened her pace, pulling her boyfriend faster down the coast.

"Oh, do I look dashingly handsome?" Percy grinned teasingly, catching her shoulder - oh gods, that smile. Opting to not give him the satisfaction of admitting that yes, she has been gawking at his extraordinary beauty, Annabeth poked her tongue out.

"You'd like to think that," she said. Percy laughed, sliding an arm around her waist and burying his head in he hair.

"Percy," Annabeth protested, though halfheartedly, "I'm trying to walk."

Percy just made an indignant sound in the back of his throat and held her closer.

"But you're warm," he whined. Annabeth leant her head into his shoulder. They had covered barely half a block, and the long distance at which the boardwalk lay was rather daunting.

"Come on Seaweed Brain," Annabeth chided.

"Okay, okay," Percy pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. He let his arm come free from her waist and sought her hand instead. "Come on Wise Girl, Let's go see the boardwalk."

They were in the cove when Percy first broached the subject - a secluded place, hidden from the prying eyes of the sky and the stars.

"So, um," Percy began tentatively, "I couldn't help but notice yesterday," he was wringing his wrists, rubbing them nervously, "you- you had a scar."

Annabeth stopped suddenly, clenching her teeth together, gripping Percy's hand tighter than she ever had before.

"Yes," she replied stiffly, "you have scars too."

"You know what I mean, Wise Girl," Percy replied. Annabeth gulped, trying to keep the deluge of memory from flooding over her.

"I knew you'd ask," she whispered.

"What happened?" Percy inquired. His voice was as taught as a bowstring, the anger so palpable for a moment, Annabeth was fearful for anybody, anybody who may ever oppose her Seaweed Brain. Suddenly, she too felt a wrathful fury grab at her heart. Futile tears - tears? - scalding the back of her eyes.

"Echidna," she ground out. She put a finger to her cleavage and drew down, indicating the path of her new scar.

"Oh, gods," Percy breathed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close the his chest. His coat was open, and Percy seemed to let it fall around Annabeth's body as though he could veil her from his awful, gods-forsaken world.

All too suddenly, Annabeth pulled away from Percy and let out a sudden, frustrated scream that rang out through the cliffs. There were tears pricking her eyelids, threatening to spill, and even Percy looked taken aback at her abrupt change in behaviour.

"Annabeth-" He began cautiously. Annabeth spun, and kicked at a nearby rock, jutting out like a tooth from the ground. Don't let the tears fall.

"Wise Girl-"

Annabeth kicked again.

"Wise Girl-"

Again, again. Don't let the tears fall.

Just kicking. Kicking at the rock. This stone. Kicking, kicking, kicking.

"Wise Girl-"

Panting, panting, panting. Don't let the tears fall.

"Wise Girl-"

Panting.

"Wise Girl-" Percy caught her arms and forced her to turn to face him.

"Breathe," he whispered, "it's okay."

"It's not," Annabeth gulped. There were tears stabbing at her eyes. Tears she did not want to let spill. Percy noticed. Percy noticed everything about her.

"Cry," he said plainly, taking her hand. Annabeth shook her head stubbornly, sniffing.

"I don't cry. It's not like me," she gabbled, "I'm just so'-stamping the ground-' angry!"

"Me too," Percy whispered, "but it's like everyone to cry." He grabbed her arm.

"No," Annabeth said, "I don't. I cried at your funeral. I cried when Luke died. Barely anytime else. Oh for fuck's sake all these funerals! I hate them so much! I hate the gods!" Kicking the stone again, "I hate the monsters," kicking the stone, "I hate the prophecies," kicking, kicking, "I hate it all!"

"So cry!"

"I don't!" Annabeth yelled, even so concealing a sob, a sob of sheer, raw rage, "it's a weakness!"

Percy was quiet for a few moments, then he said softly, "crying doesn't make you weaker. And if anything, it makes you stronger," He cupped her chin in his hands, and with his thumbs, gently wiped away the two streaks of tears slowly burning their paths down Annabeth's cheeks, "It makes you stronger because it means that you are human. It means that you are alive and you are enduring. And that you could endure a thousand more times, and a thousand more lifetimes, and still be here- still be fighting. And know that for all those long centuries, know that I will always, always be wielding that sword besides you."

For a long time- or perhaps it was a short time - Annabeth was silent. "I thought I was the one who was suppose to speak the words of wisdom, not you. Me," she finally mumbled.

"But sometimes offering them is just not enough. Sometimes you need to be on the other side... sometimes you need to be the recipient," Percy answered. He pulled his girlfriend into a tight embrace, and for a long, long time neither of them moved. They just stayed there, crying out for the injustices of the world, for all that they could have had but didn't. Sobbing in dangerous anger that if unleashed could set the world on fire. Cursing all the bitter ways of all the the bitter gods.

When they finally broke apart, Percy smiled and Annabeth did too.

"See?" Percy asked, "it's good to let it out."

Annabeth nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"And for all those horrible things at least we have each other, right?"

"We'll always have each other," Percy replied. Annabeth beamed then and hugged him again, laughing against his chest.

"I love you so much," she declared. Percy laughed, and buried his head in her head,

"Me too."

Finally, Percy and Annabeth reached the boardwalk. Annabeth was aware that she and Percy both looked a mess but she found she did not care. She felt happy now, relieved to have let out her anger; as though a huge weight had been taken off her shoulder. A muscular, broad-shouldered man was tying a pink balloon to the railing of the pier. He looked over at them with a frown.

"You kids okay?" He called over, noting their swollen eyes and blotchy faces. Percy nodded, tugging Annabeth nearer, until they reached the steps leading up to boardwalk. The man watched them with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you guys lost?" He asked gently, "you look confused."

"What?" Percy asked, "nah, we're good. Just came to see about the party. When does it start?"

"Ah," the guy checked his watch, "it starts at about eight till dawn. It's six now."

"Thanks," Percy said. His eyes drifted, glancing around the pier where several people where scurrying around the pier, laying out trestle tables or tying balloons to the railings. A woman was working at her boat, hauling out a tray of food from the cabin.

"Looks good," Annabeth said. The man smiled a little.

"Thanks," he said. "Look, I'm sorry but as much as I'd love to have a nice chat, you'd both better go, we have work to do."

"It's okay," Annabeth assured him. She nudged Percy to get his attention.

"C'mon Seaweed Brain, we have to go. They have work to do, and you a speech to write."

"Speech to write, eh?" The man said with a raised eyebrow.

"Best man's speech," Percy proclaimed proudly.

"Well, good luck with that."

"I'll need it."

Annabeth elbowed Percy impatiently.

"We have to go, Seaweed Brain."

"Yeah, come on," Percy waved a hand in farewell to the man, who was trying to no avail to tie a pastel blue balloon around the wooden beams of the railing.

"See ya," he grunted. Taking that as a dismissal, Annabeth roped her fingers through Percy's and tugged him down the steps, back to the beach and to the warm cabin.

It was half nine when the four of them arrived at the boardwalk. They were thankful for having gotten the cumbersome speech written and done, and a relaxed sensation fell over their shoulders. Annabeth smiled, looking on over at the pier where lights adorned trestle tables, illuminating patches of wooden planking. Down below, the sea kissed the shore of the beach where people danced together to fast paced music. Families stood around laughing together, couples kissed at the edge of the boardwalk and beneath the pier, hiding in the shadows, youths inhaled shots of vodka. It was simultaneously very familiar and very foreign. Delightedly, Annabeth followed Percy up the steps to where refreshments littered clean tabletops, Sally and Paul close behind.

"The entire of Long Island must be here," Percy grunted, as a balding man with a shock of white hair rushed aggressively past him, jostling both Percy and Annabeth aside into a discarded chair. Annabeth snorted.

"I'd rather not run into Mr D," she said, shoving aside a boy of around her age who had his girlfriend pinned against a lamppost, shamelessly groping at the strap of her bra with one hand, the other feeling at her breast, his teeth grazing her plump lip. Annabeth wrinkled her nose, praying the couple couldn't hear Percy's loud guffaws.

"Ew," she hissed. Percy nodded in agreement, though as whether the couple's behaviour was gross or the fact that running into a certain god of wine would be unfortunate, Annabeth wasn't sure. Anyway, perhaps she shouldn't shame the two making out. It wasn't like she and Percy didn't kiss ever. Although admittedly, they weren't at all so full of - what was the word? Thirst? Lust?

"You're making a face," Percy commented suddenly, "like a disgusted face."

As they broke free from the throng's final few dredges of people, Annabeth frowned. She was pushed against the railings of the pier with the force of water bursting from a dam. Annabeth stumbled, steadying herself on the framework.

"I am?" She quickly schooled her features back into submission.

"You were."

Percy turned, leaning on the railing. They found themselves slightly apart from the party, who was gathered mostly at the refreshments table a little way further down the boardwalk, with dancers spilling onto the sandy beach. Annabeth smiled at Percy's side, relishing in standing here, at the tip of the pier, gazing out to the inky black ocean and star-flecked sky. The boardwalk jutted out slightly, cleaving the sea, and a chilly wintry wind rolled in from the frigid Atlantic waters. For a while now, the moon and the stars had robbed the sun of all its lustrous glory, and now the Stygian blanket above their heads embraced the choppy sea somewhere in the horizon. Down below there was the rhythmic, muffled stomps of feet on sand as couples and groups danced on the sandy shore.

'Thump, thump, thump.'

"Is there always a party here?" Annabeth asked, after a silence where each person could do no more than stare about him or herself in a kind avid awe, "Every new year?"

Percy nodded. He drummed his fingers idly along the wooden railing, his fingers catching the ribbons of moonlight.

"I'm hungry Wise Girl," Percy complained, elongating his vowels like a whiny toddler as he turned away from the railings. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"Of course you are," she said, "Come on, let's get cake."

They found Sally and Paul chatting to an elderly couple sitting on deck chairs. Percy saw them first, gazing down at a slightly quieter part the beach from the boardwalk whilst a hundred people danced around them. He tugged Annabeth gently down the steps to his parents and ran up to them, sending a flurry of sand up into the air. Reaching the deck chairs, the couple halted suddenly, much to bewildered expressions of the senior citizens. But Sally and Paul looked up with a grin on each their countenances.

"Percy, Annabeth," Paul exclaimed amiably, "These are Mr and Mrs Wilkins."

Following her boyfriend's example, Annabeth lifted a hand in greeting and offered a small smile.

"Nice to meet you," she said. Mrs Wilkins nodded curtly, her short grey hair bouncing with the motion. Looking sidelong at Percy, Annabeth bit back on an amused grin at seeing him take a huge bite out of the red velvet cake they had salvaged. It looked hilariously uncourtly, and Mr Wilkins lip twitched downwards a notable fraction of an inch. The man looked momentarily, as though he had sucked on a lemon, his brow crumpling like old paper; ancient parchment. Annabeth would not have thought it possible to scour anymore wrinkles into the old man's countenance, but apparently, with his frown, it was very, very possible. She glanced over at Sally and saw that she, too, was trying not to laugh.

A little while later, having shaken off the elderly couple, the four of them sat on abandoned chairs on the beach. The time was ticking ever nearer to midnight, and all around, the party raged on. People milled above on the boardwalk in an impenetrable wall of spilt drinks and sweet foods, music blared from hidden speakers, settling over the throng like a blanket, and still, still the sandy shore was over-run by dancers, spinning each other around with the grace of birds. Some quarter of a mile off, Annabeth could make out the silhouettes of men and woman, scurrying about as they prepared for a firework display to shake the earth. And if the winter night had been cold an hour ago, it was nothing compared to now. The stars up in the sky looked down upon a party not of people, but bundles of coats and hats and gloves and scarves that all in vicinity wrapped around themselves, clinging onto their woolly sweaters for dear life, else they would suffer the merciless, arctic bite of the night air. In the moonlight, Annabeth would breathe and see little tendrils of vapour winding through the air until they disappeared into the shadows of the ocean, and when she shifted slightly to look about herself, she found her cheeks were numb and a cold dagger was hacking away at her nose.

"Dance with me?"

Paul had a hand outstretched to Sally and was grinning in the mellow moonlight. For a moment, Sally looked skeptical, involuntarily putting a protective hand to her swollen stomach as she looked about herself at the throngs that danced with the flexibility of elastic bands. Noticing this, Paul's expression went soft like butter. He smiled reassuringly and entwined his fingers through her's.

"I'll go easy," he promised. Sally hesitated for a moment, before breaking into a beam and allowing her husband to gently help her up. Laughing, Annabeth watched, clapping along with Percy as Paul led his wife to a clear patch of beach and began to carefully steer her in a slow waltz. The music, Annabeth realised now, was indeed a waltz. A medium-paced melody carrying the crowds in its hands. She never had known how good a dancer Sally was, but now, watching the elder woman with Paul, Annabeth was surprised to see that even in pregnancy, Sally's movements were freighted with fluidity and grace. The type usually only found in a gymnast or a fighter.

Suddenly, Sally turned her head to Percy and Annabeth, sitting idly on the deck chairs, huddled close for warmth. The party was thriving around them and only the two demigods were the lazy teenagers gracing the beach chairs.

"Dance!" She called joyfully, over the din of the music and the laughing people all around, "It's fun!"

Percy bit his lip and shot Annabeth an inquiring glance. The daughter of Athena though, just shrugged and stood up.

"Why not?" Annabeth said, dusting sand off her trousers"It's the New Year."

Percy pulled a face, "but I don't dance," He protested. Annabeth just grinned, and tugged his arm impetuously.

"You do now."

"Pushy," Percy observed with a happy little giggle. Still, he allowed himself to be pulled onto his feet, onto the sandy beach, his docs digging little holes in the ground. Annabeth nodded approvingly and laughing, directed her boyfriend to an empty patch, near a group of middle aged men who reeked of alcohol on one side, and two little boys about her brothers' age on the other.

The first thing both demigods noticed when the next song - a medium-paced pop number - came on was that neither of them knew how to dance. For a few seconds they just stood there, awkwardly trying to figure what to do with their hands and their feet. ("Just transfer the grace from fighting into dancing," Annabeth had said, "It's the same concept.") The second thing they realised was that the elderly couple from before was watching them like a pair of hawks from up on the boardwalk, as though waiting for the two teenagers to sneak away and indulge in debauchery; to find a hidden shed and sleep with each other, inject themselves with drugs till reality faded away, or take shots upon shots of vodka so that tomorrow morning, party-goers would stumble upon their half dead, intoxicated bodies. Whatever corrupt sorts of carousing mistrustful elderly folk thought teenagers enjoyed. With this perverse ideal dwelling in the old couple's mind, Annabeth's resolve hardened. She would dance. Dance and show these people that she was not about to sneak away and make love to her boyfriend or as good as kill herself taking illegal substances. Stupid, ridiculous things cantankerous adults thought of the youthful population. Percy's frown dragged her out of her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Annabeth blinked, coming back to terms with reality, and laughed.

"I'm fine," she said, "Just dance, because those Wilkins are looking us as though we are about to sin." Percy raised his brows but said naught.

After finally deciphering how, exactly, to dance by following the example of the crowds, Annabeth found she was actually enjoying herself hugely. A big cheesy grin was plastered to her face as she and Percy wove nimbly through the crowds, swaying around each other like birds. Her Seaweed Brain, too, was beaming. A beam that shone like the sun against this night. The music was quick now, calling for fast steps and twirling like spinning tops beneath each other's arms and vaguely, Annabeth was aware that Sally and Percy had retreated back to the deck chairs in the quarter of an hour - or was it half an hour? - before the clock would chime midnight and a firework show to startle even the gods would commence.

"Woah!" Annabeth let out a startled yelp as Percy spun her around him suddenly.

"Sorry," Percy snorted, a sheepish grin on his face. In fake disbelief, Annabeth shook her head, but continued to move. Her feet barely touched the ground, shoes light like a butterfly on the grainy sand. Quick and rapid like a heartbeat, each foot moving forwards, Percy's moving backwards in the perfect sync they had gained from fighting side by side since age twelve. Involuntarily, Annabeth found her mind wandering to horses, who when they ran, galloped so fast it was as if they were flying. And now, Annabeth understood this, with Percy's arms holding her close - now she realised - and their feet tracing the trodden ground with so much volant they were just shy of gliding. Around them people held each other and moved in time to the music that shrouded the dancing throng. Hands clamoured for attention, seeking out the fingers of lover's and friend's. All around, people cut the rug, their coats flying around them, faces close to each other as though they wanted to drink each other in. And still, they all danced and danced. The only thing that was missing, Annabeth thought, was a dress and a chandelier.

Annabeth was unsure as to how long they danced precisely. The clock ticked and the champagne was being poured and the fireworks were almost ready but this was all registered by Annabeth in a haze. She and Percy swayed together beneath the blanket of stars that had been thrown over them. Every so often, the beam of the lighthouse cut through the beach. The tide backed away like a losing army, returning in shame back to its kingdom and people had finally began to trickle away from the dancing crowds in search of refreshments before midnight.

"Percy! Annabeth!" Someone called, "Come on, midnight's in fifteen minutes!"

Percy and Annabeth broke away from each other - finally - and looked to Sally who was waving them over, a phone in her hand. The crowd was a lot thinner than it had been previously, and it was easy to fight their way through nothing more than a kissing couple and none other than Mr and Mrs Wilkins who were back on the beach now and dancing themselves.

Sally grinned when they arrived.

"Told you it was fun, didn't I?"

Percy and Annabeth both laughed and nodded in agreement, too drained to speak. Then Sally clicked her phone on and a Percy leaned over with a frown.

"Did you just film us?" He demanded. In one hand, Sally waved her polystyrene cup dismissively.

"Yeah, and I'm going to put it on Facebook."

"Wait, what?" Percy tripped over his words and Sally laughed.

"If it's okay with you," She corrected herself while Paul grinned besides her. Percy spread his hands and gave chuckled.

"If it's okay with Annabeth."

Annabeth grinned, quietly laughing. "Ah, it's fine," She said. Sally smiled, and nodded her thanks. For a few minutes the three of them just watched her struggle to upload the video, feeling somewhat rejuvenated and very joyous. Finally, Sally shot them all a triumphant look, indicating that after some struggle, she had managed to post her video.

"And you all say I'm a dinosaur when it comes to technology - oh look, someone's commented!," Sally exclaimed, "Aw! Frederick says 'cute video and thank you so much for having you' -Annabeth."

"Huh?" Annabeth flushed slightly red, "My dad follows you?" she asked as a notifications that Helen had liked the video cropped up. Then she just covered a smile and shrugged, "Ah well,' she grinned broadly, founding she was unperturbed and that her dad watching that video did not concern her at all. Paul patted her arm.

"I know you're a teenager," he teased, " so your father will be embarrassing."

Sally smiled at her husband fondly and checked the time on her watch.

"Come on," she said, "Midnight's in five minutes."

Sally had finally relented to allowing Percy and Annabeth a tiny amount of champagne each to make a toast with when the clock sounded out, marking midnight, and the two children pressed together against the pier's railing.

"You know in Spain they eat a grape with every peal of the clock?" Annabeth was saying as the whole party crowded on the boardwalk, anxiously awaiting for the first cry of the bell to mark the New Year.

"Trust you to know that!" Percy snickered. Then, in case he had offended her, which of course he hadn't, squeezed her hand.

"I know everything," Annabeth whispered, humoured. She wasn't sure why she was whispering, but it seemed appropriate. An almost tense silence had settled over the throng as each person gripped their glasses. There was a rustling as a red-headed man with a megaphone made his way through the crowd. People were jostled aside, parting like the red sea for Moses, all watching him as he mounted a small plastic chair. He put the megaphone to his lips and said, "All right folks!" The sound amplified by the loudspeakers resounded through the beach, "If you'd all be as kind as to count down from ten with me - hold up! In a moment. I know some of you under twenty-ones are taking champagne along with the adults so let's get this over with before mommy and daddy see."

At his words, the man paused and laughter rippled across the crowd. Once the chuckles had ceased the man held up a hand.

"All right ladies'n'gentlemen! Count with me..." excitement writhed through the flock of people anxiously awaiting the clock to strike like midnight. The ball had passed, now all Cinderella had to do was lose her shoe. The man held up his hand and shouted, ".. Now! Ten!"

"Nine!" The crowd yelled, "Eight... Seven... Six!"

"Three... Two... " They roared.

"One!"

"And... Happy New Year!"

And as the first peal of a bell rang out a firework shot into the sky and exploded. The crowd cheered. A whoosh of another firework. Another bell. Tinkling of glasses. Whoops. Percy was suddenly on front of Annabeth, his glass raised in front of her.

"A toast!" He shouted over the sudden explosion of sound, "to no crazy goddesses!"

"No messed up gods," Annabeth added.

"No amnesia!"

"No flying ships or perilous quests!"

"No Hell!"

"College!"

"To us!"

"To us," Annabeth echoed. And they clinked their glasses and drank as the final peal of the bell rang out and all around, fireworks rained down from the sky.

(A/N: OKAY I JUST WANT TO APOLOGISE FOR THIS HAVING TAKEN SO LONG TO UPDATE. I was both drowning in revision and my parents took my phone. (I write this on my phone- I hate writing on the computer). But the exams are (mostly) over now and I have my phone back so I can start writing again ? ﾟﾘﾊ)


	55. Chapter 55

A/N: Time calls for a disclaimer, I think! I remember way back in the first chapter 1, I wrote that I was not the writer for this because I was a thirteen year old girl and not a middle aged man. Well, I should probably correct myself because that is no longer true! I am now the fourteen years old girl who most certainly does not own PJO! (yet...) Yay! So, um, that's that ?

The little blue Prius sped along the highway. Up above, the sky was a clear, ocean blue, and the gold winter sun sent tendrils of chilly light down to the earth, its glare spreading over the car's hard metal roof. The day was perhaps perfect. Some way off, the ocean licked away at chalky cliff-faces, and all around, bare, almost sublime forests reached out to the continuous line of automobiles moving into New York City. Again, the subzero, terrifying cold appeared to be returning, and consequently, the prickly branches found themselves dusted with a thin layer of frost.

Annabeth took this all in with some degree of fascination. Her surroundings seemed pristine; something made of porcelain; something so fragile the slightest movement might shatter it into a million tiny pieces so that she almost wanted to yell at the car to 'Stop! Stop lest you break these rolling chinaware hills!'

As opposed to how it had been on the way to Montauk, Percy now manned the wheel, and besides him sat Paul, distributing snacks and every so often giving his step-son unhelpful directions that ended in the four of them being decisively and undeniably lost, until they chanced to come across a sweet old farmer to set them back on the right course. That had happened several times already this journey, and it was an experience none of them wished to experience again. Especially after the last time they had stopped to ask how to get back to the motorway, and the old woman of whom they had inquired to had somehow thought they were here to steal her sheep and had chased the car a mile down the muddy lane, brandishing a pitchfork.

Several hours following their departure from Montauk, Annabeth looked out of the window to see the familiar sight of high rises pricking the sky.

"Hey, we're nearly there!" She exclaimed, sitting straighter up in her seat. Gladly accepting the chocolate Paul passed to her, Sally laughed.

"Only took us seven hours!"

"How long's it meant to take?" Percy asked. He swivelled around in his seat and frowned.

Sally shrugged.

"Three hours," she said, "Maybe even two and a half and - oh Perseus Jackson, eyes on the road!"

Percy swore colourfully and lunged for the steering wheel. The Prius screamed as it skidded, narrowly avoiding a ditch, and the four of them let out a shout and leapt for the

passenger assist handle, cursing. Behind them, the previous car blared is horn, its owner sticking his head out of the window and yelling,

"What the fuck are you doing you fucking idiot!? Where the hell did you learn to drive!?"

Percy looked sheepish in the rear-view mirror.

"Percy!" Sally scolded. She sighed, taking her hands off her belly, where they had involuntarily gone and rubbed her brow, "I'm surprised the airbags didn't come out!"

"Sorry," Percy mumbled looking a little ashamed. Something in Annabeth's chest tightened at his meek, forlorn expression, and she found herself tentatively letting go of the roof handle and leaning over to pinch him lightly on the arm.

"Don't look so down," she chided, a slight laugh colouring, "we survived!"

The words had held a lot more weight in other situations, and Annabeth was glad to be able to, for once, say them and take them for granted. Percy was a skilled driver, she knew, and unless he was, say, drunk, or something similar, would never have let a skid like that go past anything mildly frightening.

"We survived," he agreed. Before them appeared a battered sign post written in a foreign scripture. Or to what most would have been foreign but to Percy and Annabeth read as 'strawberry farms.' A bright beam spread over Annabeth's face as Percy turned the wheel, steering the car into the familiar road leading down to camp.

"Home sweet home, right?" She whispered to Percy, still leaning forwards. Percy had his eyes fixed firmly on the road, but his lips twitched upwards in a grin that reached to the sky.

Annabeth was surprised to see Chiron already waiting for them. She hadn't know that he was aware that they were coming so early, but wasn't complaining as he grinned and galloped down the hill to meet them.

"Chiron!" Annabeth cried, tumbling out of the car and hugging her mentor. Chiron's rumbling laugh sounded above her.

"Hello Annabeth! How are you?"

Annabeth untangled herself from Chiron and grinned.

"I'm good. How are Grover and Juniper though?"

"I think they're a little more nervous that they're letting on."

Annabeth nodded understandingly, and took her suitcase, from where Percy had kindly taken it out of the boot and placed it besides her.

"Chiron!" Percy exclaimed, now at Annabeth's side, "how are you? I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too, child," Chiron smiled fondly. "Should we go? I have something to tell Annabeth, too."

Frowning, Annabeth gripped her suitcase and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah let's go."

"Good," Chiron turned to the Prius standing a few yards away, "I'll see you tomorrow at the wedding?" He asked its occupants. Inside, there was the faintly discernible movement of bobbing heads.

"Bye guys!" Sally and Paul yelled out of the window, "see you tomorrow!"

"Thanks for having me!" Annabeth called back.

"It was a pleasure!"

The engine hummed to life, and the three of them watched as the car began to move away, trundling through the mud until it had disappeared around the bend and back to the motorway, headed back to the glorious, vibrant city of New York.

As they trudged up the hill towards camp, Percy peppered Chiron with questions about the upcoming wedding.

"So how big's the place gonna be?" He demanded.

"Fairly large," Chiron responded.

"And how will the mortals get in?"

"We'll have to admit them in, like we did with Rachel."

"That'll take forever!"

"It's the only way we can. A dryad can only stray so far from her tree so it must be at camp."

"Oh. And what about-"

"Brother!" A new voice chimed in. A large, burly figure rammed into Percy. They had reached the summit of the hill, and attracted the attention of a few. And already, Tyson was here, hugging his brother with all his might.

"Can't breathe-" Percy gasped as the cyclops rocked him elatedly to and fro.

"I missed you, brother!" Tyson cried. Awkwardly, Percy patted his back.

"I missed you too brother! But, uh, would you mind letting me go? I'm kinda losing circulation."

"Oh, right." Tyson released Percy, who had gone slightly blue, his single eye alive with happiness. Then he turned to Annabeth and called her name happily. Before she could receive the same treatment as her boyfriend had, Annabeth pulled the cyclops into a quick, one-armed hug. She and Tyson had made their peace a long time ago now, and the idea of hugging him no longer provided that disgust it used to.

"Goat-boy's getting married!" He squealed excitedly once all greetings had been exchanged.

"I know!" Percy laughed, "it's amazing!"

"I can't believe it," Annabeth breathed. She supposed that for her, it was even more incredible than for the others. Grover had been the one to save her and bring her to camp all those ten years ago. He had shown her this safe haven- this sanctuary - and that alone, was a debt she knew she would never be able to fully repay.

Chiron was watching them with a smile on him face. Gently, after allowing them a few giddy minutes were they exchanged excited words, he put a hand on Annabeth's arms and took her aside.

"I need to introduce you to someone," he said with a smile. Annabeth furrowed her brow.

"What's this about?"

"Ah, nothing you haven't done a million times before. I just need you to go down to your cabin now before training starts."

"Uh- okay," Annabeth replied. Chiron nodded.

"Good girl," he smiled, and squeezed her arm, "go along now."

For a moment, Annabeth stood frozen, shocked and touched by that paternal gesture. Then she shook herself, told Percy she'd see him later at training, and began down the hill towards her familiar, homely cabin.

Getting to Cabin Six had been something of a nightmare.

"Ay, Annabeth!" Kids shouted all around.

"You're back!"

"Annabeth!"

"How you doin'?"

Swinging open the door to her cabin, Annabeth found herself already overwhelmed by so many greetings all at once. Touched that so many people cared to see how she was, yes. But overwhelmed. There was the slight creak of the hinges as she strode in, her demeanour self-assured and confident. Inside, the entirety of the Athena cabin looked up in surprise.

"Annabeth," Malcolm said, though it came out as more of a question than a statement. Raising an eyebrow, Annabeth sighed.

"What? You'd think you'd never seen your sister before, Hades," there was a pause, were she added, "Look, can you stop gawking at me like idiots please? I'm not that scary. Chiron said he wanted to show me something."

Her siblings quickly recovered from their surprise, and made to duly bid their hellos and well-mannered 'how are yous' before Malcolm cut in.

"Yeah- um that," he grinned up at her, "I'm not very good at introducing people, but this is Emily." He gestured to the bunk nearest the door, where a small girl who looked about eight sat.

In the bright lights, her grey eyes - the generic trait of all Athena kids - shone, though her eyes were slightly puffy, as though she had been crying. Still, she offered Annabeth a shy smile and held her hand up in greeting, plainly embarrassed by the attention. Annabeth returned her smile, and crouched before her.

"Hey," she said, and when that felt too cryptic, added, "I'm Annabeth."

"I'm Em," Emily said timidly, glancing down at her hands.

"So, I er, understand you're our new sister."

Annabeth had never realised just how bad she was at meeting new people until now, when she was faced with the task of welcoming a new addition to the family and no doubt explaining the entire ins-and-outs of camp life and all it entailed.

"I-I guess."

"Good. So, um, how old are you?" Annabeth asked, feeling a little awkward. The little girl shrugged her shoulders helplessly, staring intently at her lap.

"Seven," she whispered.

"Oh," Annabeth said, "I was seven too when I first came here. I've been here ten years, and honestly, it's great." Well, great it was. Minus, the quests, and the turncoats, and the hell part. When Emily just stared mutely into her lap, Annabeth looked to her siblings for help.

"So, I know this is a lot to take in," she settled for saying, "so er, I'm obviously here if you need to ease yourself into, um, this. I know how hard it is, especially so young. It was hard for me, too," Especially with her best friend having just been turned into a freaking tree, Annabeth wanted to add, "I'm head counsellor here so, naturally you can talk to me. And Malcolm fills in when I'm not here so you can talk to him too."

After several long seconds of silence, Em whispered "thank you," but Annabeth did not fail to notice that her voice was slightly disjointed.

Then, quite suddenly, Emily began to cry. Big fat tears started to stream down her cheeks, spiralling down onto the mattress beneath her.

"Oh," Annabeth breathed, "oh Emily, it's okay, I know it's hard."

Emily wiped her eyes furiously, "I'm sorry," she gasped, "it's just a lot to take in."

"I know," Annabeth whispered, "I know, it's a lot to take in. I understand."

"I just-" Emily let out another sob, "this is stupid, I shouldn't be crying. I'm so stupid."

Hades, this little seven year old already with such self-awareness. Emily sobbed, and covered her small mouth with her hand.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered, "this is so embarrassing, I shouldn't be crying."

"No," Annabeth said gently, "no, you should be crying. Oh gods, it's so much to take in it's be a wonder if you didn't."

"It's- it's embarrassing!"

"It isn't. Crying isn't debilitating or shameful. It just means that you are enduring. See, it's a sign of strength. It means that you could endure a thousand more times and still be here, fighting."

"Aren't you taking my words right out of my mouth?" A new, familiar voice asked. With a rueful expression, Annabeth turned to the door.

"Aren't you meant to knock?" She demanded. Percy smiled coyly and knocked on the open door.

"Hello," he said, "who's this? Are you okay?"

"This is Em, my sister."

Percy stepped cautiously into the room, and came before Emily. He smiled kindly down at her, and Annabeth sighed.

"Oh right. Em, this is Percy. He's a bit of an idiot."

"Oh sure," Malcolm drawled. He was reposed on his bed, and had an eyebrow raised. "One minute you say that, and the next I find you disgracefully making out behind a boulder during capture the flag, so kindly make your mind up about him."

"Malcolm!" Annabeth said sharply, aware she was blushing beet red.

A few wolf-whistles and giggles coursed their way through the cabin. Annabeth's expression turned hard, but when she saw that Emily was now laughing, she smiled, glad that the little girl was happy again.


End file.
